


gather all my bones

by pinkg_nu



Category: Winner (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Post-Apocalypse, Psychological Horror
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-17
Updated: 2016-10-17
Packaged: 2018-08-22 22:57:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 23,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8304440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinkg_nu/pseuds/pinkg_nu
Summary: He starts laughing hysterically. It’s all so fucked up. The world is fucked and his sister is dead, his parents are dead, his friends are dead. It’s all death and decay and so he laughs in the face of it, he wraps his fingers around Seunghoon’s neck, and he lets death become him.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CONTENT WARNING:
> 
> This story deals with dark and mature themes. Some of these themes have been omitted from the above warnings in order to keep the integrity of the plot. Therefore, please exercise caution when reading.

_Smoke, flames, and fire were rising from the place, and when that was over, the little brother was standing there, and he took his father and Marlene by the hand, and all three were very happy, and they went into the house, sat down at the table, and ate._

- [The Juniper Tree](http://www.pitt.edu/~dash/grimm047.html) by The Brothers Grimm

i.

 

It’s like someone put a rock on his chest. Each shuddering breath is pressed out of him just as quickly as it came. There’s the copper tang of blood on his tongue. A flickering darkness licks at the corner of his vision, threatening to whisk him away into unconsciousness.

He hears a muffled voice and feels a pressure on his shoulder but Mino’s eyes remain fixed on the nightmarish scene before him.

There are three bodies. Two are men, their arms outstretched and hands still clawed. They look scrawny and feral even in death. Their rabid hunger is still so ferocious that Mino thinks they could rise from the dead for one last meal if it wasn’t for the bullet hole between their eyes.

The third body is a thin, lithe figure — elegant and graceful even at the end. Her hair is scattered around her face, blood bubbles a shiny red in the corner of her full mouth. Her gaze is empty, her soul gone, her skull cracked, the pieces of her pooled around her in an eerie burgundy halo.

His sister is dead on the floor.

Something in Mino snaps and he starts struggling furiously against the rope tying him to the chair, wrists quickly rubbed raw and bloody. Screams tear through him, the heavy weight of his broken heart is so painful that his most likely fractured ribs are an afterthought.

Two hands clutch at him, trying to keep him still. They push him back into the chair, try to calm him down, but still he screams.

Eventually, his voice cracks and he lets out one last ragged wail before the tears start flowing. He’s messy and snotty and pitiful but Mino is too far gone to care.

His sister is dead on the floor.

Mino’s vision starts darkening more rapidly. He feels light-headed and dizzy and he’s fading swiftly but a voice cuts through the impending shadows.

“Jinwoo,” Comes the voice, soft but firm. “Put the gun down.”

Mino passes out to the sound of a bashful giggle and a gun clattering to the cement.

-

He wakes up to the feeling of dry grass against his back. There is a ringing in his ears, piercing and agonizingly loud. It slowly fades away to allow silken threads of singing to replace it.  

 

> _My mother, she killed me,_
> 
> _My father, he ate me,_
> 
> _My sister Marlene,_
> 
> _Gathered all my bones,_
> 
> _Tied them in a silken scarf,_
> 
> _Laid them beneath the juniper tree,_
> 
> _Tweet, tweet, what a beautiful bird am I._

The voice is sweet, a murmur made gentler by the rustle of the hot wind.

Mino opens his eyes. Above him is a tree. Its branches are straight and withered, like it stretched its arms up to the sun for safety from the broken world below, only to realize that the warmth turned into an inferno, a friend to a foe. A scant few leaves dangle on brittle hinges. It is a miserable sight, Mino thinks, but it provides some shade and that itself is a blessing.

He tries to sit up but a torturous pain rips through his side, leaving him breathless and groaning.

Cool hands touch his forehead and thread through his sweaty hair. One hand curls around the back of his head and tilts it up. The other presses a bottle to his lips, allowing splendid wetness to reach his parched lips. The water on his tongue feels like life coursing through him and he drinks it greedily.

“There,” The sweet voice coos. “Drink as much as you need.”

He drinks and drinks until his empty belly is distended and full. When his thirst is finally quenched, he leans his head back onto the grass and fills his lungs with the muggy, hot air, not caring about the pain in his ribs.

“Just breathe,” Says the voice. “You’re safe now.”

Not believing that for a second, Mino grits his teeth and puts his elbows underneath him to lift himself up and lay eyes on his good samaritan.

Beautiful, is the first thing Mino thinks. Delicate, is the second. Dangerous, is the third. The boy is thin, almost frail. He has large, endlessly black eyes that are framed by thick lashes. His face is small and cherubic. His lips are full, tilted up at one corner to reveal a charming dimple.

He’s physically flawless and that fact alone makes Mino’s hackles rise and his pulse quicken. He has the type of beauty that makes people let their guards down. A beauty that lets people trust or lust just long enough to deliver a deadly blow. He knows. His sister had the same quality.

The boy is kneeling, his long, elegant hands perched daintily on top of his thighs as he peers down at Mino quizzically. 

Logic was never Mino’s strength and the only thing that he can think about is getting away from this perfect and dangerous stranger. He tries to turn around — to get up and run — but the pain returns to his side with a vicious intensity. He moans hopelessly as his arms start to weaken and shake.

“Careful,” The boy chides, taking a large sack and putting it behind Mino’s back to prop him up. 

Tired and weary, Mino gives up and allows the boy to manhandle him like a marionette with cut strings.

“You have some fractured ribs, I think,” The boy says once Mino is settled in a comfortable position. “Maybe a bruised lung. But other than that, you’re fine.”

He’s fine. Mino wants to laugh. Nothing is fine. The world is on fire and its inhabitants are burnt to a black crisp.

“What’s your name?” The boy asks.

The boy smiles down at him sweetly, reaching out and trying to brush at the hair stuck to Mino’s forehead but Mino flinches and swats his hand away. The boy retracts his hand swiftly, clutching it against his chest.

“You don’t trust me,” The boy says.

“I don’t trust anyone,” Mino responds, the _not anymore_ an acrid taste on the edge of his tongue.

“My name is Jinwoo. I won’t hurt you. You’re safe. We _saved_ you.”

Not soon enough, Mino thinks. They didn’t save him when it mattered. It wasn’t worth it to save him now, not when the only person worth saving was dead and gone.

Mino blinks away the tears forming, swallowing bitterly and looking away from the boy. There’s a gun laying innocuously on the grass. Mino is too tired now to be scared of it, all of his fighting spirit burnt away to dust.

Jinwoo turns his head to see where Mino is looking, his eyebrows furrow when he spots the gun.

“She was dead before we got there,” Jinwoo says forlornly, taking the gun in his hands, his long fingers running against the dips and ridges of the metal.

Mino closes his eyes, hoping to see only black, but the images of his sister’s last moments are tattooed on the backs of his eyelids.

“I know,” He says before an anxious slumber pulls him away again.

-

A racketing thud of a pack being thrown onto the ground wakes Mino up from his fitful sleep.

“Did our patient wake up?” A voice asks. It’s different from Jinwoo’s, high but somehow still gruff and authoritative.

“Once,” Jinwoo answers, his voice further away than before. “He’s sleeping again.”

Mino cracks open his eyes to see a tall figure kneeled over the pack and rustling through its contents. Jinwoo is sitting up against the trunk of the tree, a tattered book resting on his knees. The sky is darker now, the air slightly cooler. Mino doesn’t know how many hours he slept but he feels better than before.

“How’s his pain?” The man asks, looking up at Jinwoo as he sets aside his book and walks towards him. Jinwoo lends out a hand to help the man up from his crouch. The man is quite a bit taller than Jinwoo, his shoulders broad and his legs lean and strong. He has a striking face. His eyes are slanted and intense, almost feline. He seems dangerous too, but different from the unnerving perfection that Jinwoo possesses. This man is poised and ready to pounce at any moment. He’s a fighter, Mino thinks. He knows how to kill and he knows how to do it well.

Mino should have realized by now that everyone is dangerous in this world. The only way to survive is to be even more dangerous, he knows this. But Mino has always been a pacifist. He remembers vomiting the first time he had to kill someone, choking on bile and shaking against a wall as his sister had soothingly rubbed his back, her hand still clenched around the handle of a bloody axe, ready for any more attackers. She did most of the killing after that and he hid behind her like a coward. They were just kids. They shouldn’t have had to kill anyone at all.

Life is unfair. Mino has had to learn that lesson over and over again.

“He’ll be alright,” Jinwoo says as he curls his arms around the man’s waist, looking up at him with a relieved and happy smile and going up on his tip-toes to give the man a long, lingering kiss.

Mino averts his eyes.

“Did you get what we needed?” Jinwoo inquires, pulling back and running assessing hands across the man’s shoulders as if to check for any damage.

The man hums and nods, tilting his head down to press another kiss on Jinwoo’s mouth, his hands settling comfortably on Jinwoo’s hips.

“I got something for you, too,” The man says after a few more kisses and turns back to the pack to rustle through it again, pulling out a long piece of fabric with a dramatic flourish. “It’s like that song you’re always singing, that one from your book?”

“ _Gathered all my bone, tied them in a silken scarf, laid them beneath the juniper tree,_ ” Jinwoo sings, his voice echoing pleasantly.

The light blue fabric is glossy, shining in the last light of day and it moves like gossamer water, curling around the man’s hand like a second skin. It’s luxurious and extravagant, clean and gleaming amidst the dirt.

There are small red flowers embroidered along the edge — Mino recognizes them instantly. He’s seen them before in a photo his mother had always carried with her. Hibiscus flowers. They once grew in abundance in her grandmother’s garden, she told them as she ran her fingers along the green and pink hues of the photograph.

Flowers don’t grow anymore. Only hardier plants that can stand the heat grow now. And even then, they’re guarded and prized and fought to the death over.

“When your grandmother was a child, they used to waste food,” His mother had told him and his sister in hushed tones as they hid from yet another food riot, huddled in an abandoned building, weaving fairy tales of places where food was served as art and where there were gardens devoted solely to growing flowers.

She had told them that hibiscus flowers could be dried and when the dried leaves hit hot water, the water would bloom into the most beautiful, bright red. She could never quite describe the colour properly — there was nothing in this world to compare it to.

It’s the first time Mino has seen something as close to the real thing. He wants to touch the silk scarf too, he wants to see if those tiny flowers hold a scent.

Jinwoo’s smile is luminously beautiful as he takes the offered gift. He runs his thin hands along its surface, feeling the cool threads against his skin. Folding it carefully, he winds it behind his neck and ties it into a neat, pretty bow that settles on his collarbones.

“How do I look?” Jinwoo asks coyly, twirling around so that the man can see him from all angles.

“ _What a beautiful bird you are,_ ” The man answers brightly, standing back up and catching his lover in his arms as Jinwoo twirls and laughs, the silk fluttering behind him.

“Thank you, Seunghoon.” 

He looks at the man with such an adoring gaze that it takes Mino’s breath away. His smile is like the sun as Mino’s mother had once described it so long ago, cool and gentle. The light it gave was clear and soothing and everywhere its bright fingers touched, things grew and blossomed. Mino was born under a sun that became harsh and angry, that burned the flowers and people that had once relied upon it.

Jinwoo’s smile is a window into the past. It makes sense that this austere man is powerless except to bloom under its radiant light.

Jinwoo and the man, Seunghoon, hold each other tightly, only loosening their grips to lean up for small gentle kisses. Seunghoon keeps his hand on Jinwoo’s neck, running his thumb against the place where his heartbeat can surely be felt through the thin, pale skin.

It’s so intimate and Mino doesn’t want to intrude. But his chest feels tight and deep, heavy coughs are fighting their way out of his throat.

The moment broken, Jinwoo rushes over to Mino’s side, leaving the man standing with empty hands. All the lightheartedness on Seunghoon’s face is gone, leaving a cold look of suspicious appraisal in his sharp eyes.

“Do you need more water?” Jinwoo says, grabbing the water bottle and opening it quickly as Mino moans against the pain of his coughs.

Something lands in Mino’s lap with a clatter. He looks down to see a pill pottle, the label so old and faded that he can barely read it.

“Ibuprofen,” Seunghoon grunts. He stands, poised and stiff with his arms crossed, looking down at Mino as Jinwoo takes the bottle and shakes out three pills.

“For the pain,” Jinwoo adds on and he holds out the pills. Three little peace offerings in the centre of his palm.

His vision blurs again and his chest feels like it’s being ripped apart. Mino is afraid that these pills aren’t what they seem to be. But he rationalizes that if they wanted to kill him, they could just leave him to be helpless to the elements, rather than waste this precious commodity.

He’s sick of being in pain. He takes the pills with a shaking hand and accepts Jinwoo’s offer of water to help wash them down. Maybe they can numb his broken heart.

Jinwoo smiles down at him sweetly, like a proud mother caring for her sick child.

“They’ll kick in soon,” He says, sitting down beside him. He wraps his arms around his knees, and rests his chin atop them as he blinks down at Mino’s prone body.

Mino tries to hold Jinwoo’s assessing gaze. He has to look away before those eyes strip him bare.

“W-where is she?” He finally asks, voicing the question he knows they’ve been waiting for.

“She’s dead,” Seunghoon says with finality, as if he’s trying to rip a bandaid off quickly. Jinwoo frowns at Seunghoon’s presumptuousness and kicks him in the shin.

“Have some tact,” Jinwoo says sternly.

“I know she’s dead,” Mino bites. “Where is her body? What did you do with her?”

Finally, a bit of Seunghoon’s stoic aloofness crumbles away. He breaks Mino’s stare and bows his head to nod in the direction of the withered tree.

It’s the same place where he saw Jinwoo reading his book, where he set it down before he got up to greet Seunghoon’s return.

The book rests face up, its open pages flapping in the wind. Beside it is an oblong pile of dirt, neatly shaped, sticks carefully placed around the edges to create a delicate frame.

Mino’s mother said that years and years ago, it was common to cremate loved ones, if only because there were wasn’t enough space to bury them in the ground.Now, it’s still common to burn the dead bodies, but it’s only a last respect to the dead. A small courtesy instead of leaving them to be scavenged by the local rabid animals.

They must of dragged her here, dug the hole, and buried her. Her body is under the dirt, only a few steps away. He can’t touch her, can’t talk to her, but she’s there.

“Oh,” Mino breathes.

Mino breathes, once, twice, and then he can’t anymore. He can’t breathe at all.

His ears start ringing. His vision blurs. And this time he hopes the darkness will take him away forever. This time he doesn’t want to wake up.

His sister is dead in the ground. 

Mino feels so empty and broken, so disassociated, that the hand that grabs his isn’t scary. It grounds him, lets him feel the hot tears on his cheeks, lets him gather his breath and steady himself.

“I wanted you to be there,” Jinwoo says, holding tightly onto Mino’s hand. He’s crying too, perfect teardrops carving an incandescent path on his pale cheeks. “I wanted you to be able to say goodbye the proper way.”

“We’ll burn her in the morning before we head out,” Seunghoon puts in, his voice still cold, but Mino can sense it’s more of a shield than anything else.

He doesn’t know if he should feel flattered or enraged. Should he be grateful that his sister was buried only to be exhumed?

“What’s your name?” Jinwoo asks again.

“M-Mino,” He stutters through his tears. Jinwoo leans over and starts wiping them away with his new silk scarf. Mino doesn’t even try to move away this time. Instead, he leans into the touch and smells the silk as it brushes against his nose. It smells sweet. It’s nice. Mino hopes flowers smell this nice.

“I’m glad you’re here, Mino,” Jinwoo smiles when he leans back.

Not knowing if he agrees with Jinwoo’s sentiment, Mino leans back against the pack and looks up to the sky that’s peeking through the tree branches. It’s almost dusk and the setting sun makes the floating dust turn the sky into a brilliant orange.

It is this time of day where the air gets cooler, where each breath doesn’t feel as heavy. It’s only there for a short time until the cold of darkness sets in, so chilling that it can kill a man in his sleep if he doesn’t light a fire during the night.

So Mino takes in as many deep gulps of this air as he can, not caring how Jinwoo and Seunghoon stare at him strangely.

“I’m Jinwoo,” Jinwoo says, reintroducing himself. “And this is Seunghoon.”

Seunghoon nods at him once.

“Seunghoon is from Busan, just a few hours from here,” Jinwoo says. “He was born in the city.”

“Yeah,” Seunghoon adds, scoffing. “What was left of it.”

The major cities of South Korea are now more like landmarks. Concrete mausoleums of a time long past.

As the sun became hotter and hotter and the rain stopped coming, plant-life became more scarce. Plants didn’t grow in the cities and so the places that were once urban metropolises became empty, everyone fleeing to wherever the food grew best.

They swarmed like bees to a hive, desperate for any signs of life, for any signs of potential nourishment. 

Naturally, whoever controlled the food, controlled the people, and so the country split into four. Four swarms of people in the four largest areas where food could be produced. One in the North, West, East, and South.

The shift from living in excess to living in destitution was stark. Many of the practices of the old world had not been unlearned. People were just a greedy, rulers just as cruel. The healthy and fed elite controlled the nearly-starving masses. Each swarm was totalitarian and brutal and they used their own people to feed their greed — make them slave for their own survival.

You were either part of the swarm or you weren’t. Each year in a swarm was branded on your body — an ironed symbol of your sector and the year. This made it easier to document run-aways and defectors.

Mino sometimes touches the ten brands that line his upper arm, the scars have been stretched and deformed as he grew. He feels the raised bumps of an emblem of grain and beside it, a tiny etching of a dragon, the symbol of the Northern swarm.

He knows that if he were to be caught by a patrol, he’d be good as dead. They don’t pity people who have run away. He’d be sent to work the fields until he dropped dead and after that, who knew what they would do with his body.

“Where are you from, Mino?” Jinwoo asks curiously and Mino jumps, taking his hand away from his arm, where he had been touching his brands unconsciously.

“Yongin,” He replies. “Just outside Seoul.”

“Were you part of the Northern Swarm?”

“My father worked in the grain fields,” Mino says.

_He’s dead,_ is what Mino didn’t say. 

Seunghoon nods and Mino knows he understands.

He remembers his father’s defeated gaze as his arthritic hands struggled to open their door. His back was hunched from the countless hours bent over the soil, his crop’s yield smaller and smaller as age and over-work did its damage.

In the swarm, you were forced to work on a plot of a farm. All of the food that you grew was placed into a communal pot and from there, it was divided amongst the members. Of course it wasn’t equal, the more powerful people got the best of the crop, and the others were left to fight for the rest. It was hideously unfair. But it was the only way to live and the people were too starved to revolt for anything better.

The swarm had a quota of food to grow and if that wasn’t met, you were dead weight — dead weight can’t be fed and so dead weight needs to die — it was population control. A morbidly simple piece of logic in this fucked up world.

His mother knew right away who and what was coming for them. He knew that her husband’s death sentence was etched in stone and her ten year-old son would be put to work until he met the same fate. She grabbed the only bag they had and packed their last bits of food and the scant few possessions that her children owned. Delicately, she put their last three bottles of clean water on the top and zipped the bag closed.

The pack was made heavy by the water, he could feel the bottles thumping against the protruding bones of his spine as they ran away from their tent. The thuds of their feet on the ground almost muffled the two resounding gunshots behind them. Almost.

“It’s getting better in Busan, that’s why I came back.” Seunghoon says going back to the pack, taking out a long piece of fabric. He comes and sits beside Jinwoo. Reaching into his back pocket, he takes out a switch blade and starts to cut the fabric into thinner strips. “The crops are good now. It rains sometimes so you can make little gardens in the city and not be found out. Just keep away from the swarm and we’re fine.”

“Did you work the fields when you lived here before?” Mino frowns.

“No, no — I left Busan as soon as my family was gone. I’ve been on the road since I was eight.”

“Seunghoon has been to all four corners of the country,” Jinwoo comments, a proud twinkle in his eyes. “He knows all its secrets.”

“I know enough to not get myself killed,” Seunghoon clarified.

“How long have you been away from Yongin?” Jinwoo asks, his curious gaze never wavering.

“Ten years,” Mino replies with a frown. Has it really been that long? It didn’t seem like long ago that he and his sister slept in each other’s arms that first night, trying to muffle their sobs as they mourned for their parents.

It feels like it’s been decades since he saw his sister last but it hasn’t even been 24 hours since he first heard his sister’s screams as those bastards grabbed her. Time is strange that way.

He can feel Seunghoon staring at him too — his gaze darker and more assessing. It makes him feel exposed and uncomfortable.

“So you’re not a novice to life on the outside either,” Seunghoon murmurs and this time his tone is cold and distrusting. 

“I know enough to not get myself killed,” Mino snaps, a repetition of what Seunghoon said earlier, lashing out at his scrutiny.

Seunghoon’s answering grin sends a shiver down Mino’s spine.

“Just yourself, huh?”

Before Mino can retaliate, Jinwoo jumps up, telling them that they should start a fire and cook dinner.

“Will you start the fire, Hoonie?” Jinwoo asks, blinking down at Seunghoon with his wide eyes. “You’re always the best at it.”

Conceding, Seunghoon gets up and grabs the rifle that rests beside his pack, giving Mino one last glance before he treks off into a clump of trees a small distance away.

“He’s always so serious,” Jinwoo chides as he takes the long strips of fabric that Seunghoon was cutting and motions for Mino to take off of his shirt. “I’m just going to bandage your ribs, it should make them feel better.”

Jinwoo winces when he sees the dark bruises that are scattered along Mino’s torso.

“Oh dear,” Jinwoo frets. “They really did a number on you.”

Tying the strips of fabric together at the ends, Jinwoo creates a long piece and begins to tightly wind it around Mino’s chest. It hurts like a bitch but Mino clenches his teeth against the pain. His ribs feel better and better the tighter Jinwoo pulls at the fabric.

“All done,” He sings, patting at Mino’s side just as Seunghoon returns with an armful of wood.

Seunghoon splits the wood with strong, nimble hands, making a pit and then a spire with practiced ease. He takes out a flint and scrapes a rock along its surface until sparks fly and catch and the darkness is chased away as the flames build into a glowing light.

“See?” Jinwoo says, crouching down and kissing Seunghoon’s cheek. “I told you that you’re the best at this.”

Mino scoots in closer to the fire, putting out both hands to feel the warmth licking at his palms.

Jinwoo grabs a few cans of beans. He takes a knife and pierces the tops before he sets them on the embers.

They sit in silence around the fire as they wait for the beans to cook. Mino is afraid to say anything, not wanting to spur on Seunghoon’s ire.

“There’s only two,” Seunghoon points out suddenly.

“We’ll get more later,” Jinwoo says. “You and me can share.”

Seunghoon frowns.

“And he gets one for himself?”

“He’s injured,” Jinwoo explains. “He needs his strength.”

“Enough strength to kill us in our sleep?”

“Oh, _please,_ Seunghoon, I’m tired of this,” Jinwoo chides as he uses a stick to take the cans from the fire. “You’re being petty.”

Jinwoo hands Mino a can and a fork with a smile as Seunghoon pouts behind him. They  eat their beans in heavy silence while Jinwoo smiles at both of them.

Mino finally feels like some of his strength has returned to him. The mound of dirt is still a grisly and haunting presence behind him but his stomach doesn’t ache and the pain killers are kicking in and he thinks he can trust Jinwoo enough to stop Seunghoon from murdering him.

He might be able to face what is about to come in the morning.

Jinwoo stands up and wipes the dust from his pants, declaring that he needs to wash up before bed.

“Don’t forget your gun,” Seunghoon says, handing it to him before Jinwoo starts walking towards the grove of trees.

Mino stands up too, walking a few paces away from the fire and looking up at the cloud of stars that twinkle above him. His mother told him that it was the only beautiful thing that came out of this. Back then, there was so much light polluting the sky that you couldn’t see anything. Now, the stars seem endless. 

Him and his sister would spend their nights gazing up at the stars, finding constellations and naming them, making stories about the people and creatures they found as they connected the dots. His sister had said that everyone who had died became another light in the sky. They found their mother in an angular hibiscus and their father in a rearing bear.

He looks up to the stars and tries to find the shape his sister left behind but there are thousands and thousands of lights that don’t connect, he can’t find the pattern — she was always better at this than him.

Blinking away the tears, Mino chastises himself. He’s cried enough.

Mino is about to turn back to the fire when a hand darts out, fingers wrapping around Mino’s upper arm and squeezing in a bruising grip.

“Don’t think for a second that I don’t consider you a threat just because of some bruised ribs,” Seunghoon snarls, baring his teeth. “Who knows why we had to save you in the first place.”

“I —” Mino starts to say but Seunghoon grabs him roughly, his eyes narrow slits.

“Did you have a debt? Did you kill one of their own? Was she leverage for a deal gone wrong?” Seunghoon interrogates, getting in Mino’s face.

“I didn’t —” He tries again but Seunghoon cuts him off.

“ _Did you sell her?”_ The way he says it makes it seem like it’s not even a question and Seunghoon’s judgement is like hot coals on his feet. Mino’s anger is torrential — an anger so deep that it seems like the Earth’s core is the one fuelling it.

His arm shoots out of its own accord, a fist right into the side of Seunghoon’s jaw. There is so much power in the punch that Seunghoon falls to ground.

Seunghoon tries to get up but what Mino doesn’t have in speed, he makes up for in mass. Mino pins his thinner body to the grass, punching him on the other side of his face.

“You piece of shit,” Mino spits, grabbing Seunghoon’s shirt to pull him up and slam him back down hard. “How dare you even — why would I ever — _”_

There is a thump of feet running towards them. The sound stops a few metres away. Mino knows it’s Jinwoo. He doesn’t understand why he just stands there as his lover is being beaten up by an unhinged stranger.

“You think I let her die?” Mino demands, shaking Seunghoon viciously. “Huh? You think I just sat there while they cracked her skull open on the fucking floor?”

Below him, Seunghoon grimaces, his teeth painted red. His hands come up to protect his face from Mino’s assault of fists.

“ANSWER ME!” He shouts, his voice cracking, and he bats Seunghoon’s hands away before he punches him again. “Answer me before I snap your neck.”

Seunghoon remains silent, his arms outstretched on the ground, passive as Mino’s fury rains down on him.

“I could do it you know,” Mino warns. “I have nothing to lose. I don’t have anything anymore.”

And he starts laughing hysterically, it’s all so fucked up. The world is fucked and his sister is dead, his parents are dead, his friends are dead. It’s all death and decay and so he laughs in the face of it, he wraps his fingers around Seunghoon’s neck, and he lets death become him.

Before he can even squeeze, Mino’s body is thrown off of Seunghoon’s as he is tackled to the ground. They land in a tangled heap and then the weight and pressure on his chest is gone as soon as it came. Jinwoo stands up quickly, brushing strands of grass off his pants and fixing his silk scarf like nothing happened. 

It’s enough to break Mino out from his blind anger.

Jinwoo helps him get up, wrapping an arm around his waist as they limp back closer to the fire. Seunghoon is left behind in the shadows, spitting blood onto the ground and cursing.

“Why didn’t you stop me before?” Mino asks, clenching his jaw at the renewed pain in his side as Jinwoo sets him down.

Jinwoo thinks carefully. The orange flames reflect off his glassy, endless eyes.

“He needs to learn how to stop asking stupid questions,” He says and Mino laughs in surprise.

Seunghoon glares at Mino and Jinwoo for the rest of the night.

He gives Mino their thinnest blanket, a petty revenge as they settle down to sleep. Seunghoon makes sure to position themselves so that the fire is between them. He puts his gun at his side and Mino almost laughs at his presumptuousness. 

Despite Seunghoon’s distrust, he’s the first one to fall asleep. His deep breathes reverberate overtop the crackle of burning wood.

The last thing Mino sees before he falls asleep are Jinwoo’s black eyes staring right back at him through the flames.

“It’s okay,” Jinwoo whispers. “I’ll be your watch-bird.”

-

Mino wakes up early. He slept more peacefully than he thought he would, the dreams he know will come have been temporarily held at bay. It’s a blessing that Mino savours. He spreads his arms and stretches. The fabric around his ribs is tight and comfortable. It helps him feel like he isn’t going to fly apart.

The sun is still a few hours from rising but the faded edges of its light are just peaking above the horizon. He sits up and watches the ashy blue of midnight fade into the gold of dawn.

“Good morning,” Jinwoo’s voice chirps. 

“Did you keep watch all night?” asks Mino as he wipes the sleep from his eyes.

Jinwoo plays with the silk scarf still tied around his neck as he stares at the last small spouts of smoke rise up from the dead fire. 

“I don’t sleep much,” Jinwoo says simply.

The book he was reading the other day is perched in his lap. It looks ancient. The pages are yellowed and the spine is cracked and separated. Jinwoo holds it like it is precious.

“Should we…” Mino starts, gesturing to the tidy mound of dirt beneath the tree, then trailing off as his voice gets shaky.

“I think now would be a good time,” Jinwoo agrees.

Nodding, Mino gets up, trying to not make any noise to wake Seunghoon, and walks towards the tree, kneeling before his sister’s temporary grave.

He feels oddly serene as he starts digging at the dirt with his hands. The sediment catches under his nails, gritty and itchy and real. He measures each pass of his fingers with a deep breath and builds a rhythm, timing everything so perfectly that he would feel bad for stopping. It’s the only way he can keep going.

Jinwoo seems to know that he doesn’t want any help. He stays away and focuses on re-building the fire.

Mino’s clawed hand touches something that is definitely not dirt and he stills, his whole body going tight. The images spread through his mind; a bloated body and sunken eyes. He can almost feel the maggots crawling on fingers. He nearly loses his nerve but he clenches his teeth, shakes the images from his mind, and continues digging.

“We wrapped her in a tarp,” Mino hears Seunghoon say. He hadn’t heard him wake up. Mino looks back to the sky. It’s much brighter now, a sliver of sunlight breaking through. He doesn’t know how much time has passed but when he looks behind him, he sees that Jinwoo and Seunghoon have constructed a rudimentary pyre on the ground.

He catches Seunghoon’s eye. The tension from the night before is stiff between them but then Seunghoon must see something — maybe it’s the hopeless of losing the only thing Mino had left, maybe it’s the undercurrent of fear that threatens to eat Mino whole — but Seunghoon softens and he takes long strides until he kneels down beside him and starts digging with him.

They work in companionable silence, their arms brushing comfortably, until the green of the tarp can be seen more clearly through the brown dirt. They work around the fabric until her form is finally uncovered.

Mino looks at her the shape of her body. He’s glad that he can’t see her face. It seems more real now and that in itself makes the pain ten times worse. 

Sitting back on his heels, Mino stares at his sister’s dead body and tries to breathe.

Seunghoon reaches out and makes sure every spec of dirt is wiped away. After the tarp is as clean as it can be, he stands and walks around her body, crouching over where her head would be.

“I’ve had to do this too,” Seunghoon whispers, bringing his dirty hands underneath her to take the weight of her shoulders. “I did this three times.”

Mino nods and takes her feet. Together they lift her up, keeping her rigid body as steady as they can, and walk her over to place her onto of her final resting place. 

Jinwoo immediately places more wood around her body, interlocking the pieces of wood until he makes a small wall that surrounds her body. Much to Mino’s surprise, he takes his book and rips out a couple of pages, crumpling them up and stuffing them into holes of the pyre.

He catches Mino’s confused stare.

“I didn’t like that story anyways,” He smiles.

Seunghoon keeps close as they watch Jinwoo work, lets their arms touch. Mino is grateful for the contact.

He’s suddenly overwhelmingly grateful that he doesn’t have to do this alone but he wants to be with her, just the two of them, for one last time.

“C-could you leave?” He stutters. “For a little bit?”

“Just tell us when you’re ready,” Seunghoon says and takes Jinwoo by the arm, leading them further off into the field where they can’t hear him.

Mino turns back to the pyre and drops to his knees before it.

“I’ve been a terrible older brother, haven’t I?” Mino mutters, his head bent. 

She was always the leader — headstrong and independent even when they were living in the swarm. She staged small revolts every day, when she would steal food right under a patrol’s nose and give it to the people who were being starved as a punishment for some small misdemeanour. 

His sister was brave and kind and Mino followed behind her, hiding in her shadow, letting her do the dirty work. He wept for every person he killed and even then, she praised him for his soft-heart. She told him that he was an artist and artists like to create more than they like to destroy. She wanted to protect that as much as she could.

His shoulders crumple and he cries.

“ _Dana,_ ” He whispers. “I couldn’t protect you. _”_

He paints his face with his tears, his cheeks a canvas for his grief. The sun has risen and clouds are pink and orange. He just might look as beautiful as Dana always told him he was.

“I love you. I’m sorry.”

Standing up on shaky legs, he motions for Seunghoon and Jinwoo to come back.

“You good?” Seunghoon asks.

“Yes,” Mino nods. “Let’s do this.”

They grab some sticks and wrap them in the left-over pieces of fabric. Dipping them into the fire, they wait until they catch. They circle the pyre and are about set it aflame when Jinwoo shouts and points to the sky.

“Look!” He cries. “A bird.”

Tilting their necks, they look through the branches of the tree to see a hawk circling far, far above them.

“In my favourite story, the murdered boy becomes a birds and he gets revenge,” He says look at the bird in awe. “I think she’s with us, Mino.”

Mino never believed in reincarnation, the world was already cruel enough. But he decides to appease Jinwoo for now and the three of them watch the hawk as it glides through the air, it’s golden feathers glinting in the morning light. It is beautiful, in an eerie way, but still beautiful.

“I’m ready,” Mino finally says.

Seunghoon nods and together, they lower their torches.

The dry wood of the pyre is quickly enveloped in flames. The fire is as bright as the sun that is rising. Mino closes his eyes. He pictures her eyes. Her hair. Her voice. How her hands felt in his. Her breath on his neck as they slept, huddled together for warmth.

He had spent every moment of his life with his sister. Now she is gone and he is alone.

The hawk lets out an echoing screech. 

Dana’s body burns and from her ashes, Mino’s world must be rebuilt.

 


	2. Chapter 2

ii.

 

“Are you ready to go, Mino?” Seunghoon asks as the fire finally starts to dwindle. “Someone might see the smoke.”

Mino swallows thickly. “Yeah, yeah. Let’s go.”

Jinwoo and Seunghoon gather their things with well-practiced efficiency and Mino feels strange for being so empty-handed. He’s lost everything in such a short time — he almost laughs.

“You can come back with us to the city,” Seunghoon says as they trek through long, brown weeds. “Jinwoo and I have been there for a while. We’ve collected supplies so you can take what you need if you want to head on.”

Mino hadn’t thought about leaving but he guesses that it’s the next step. It scares him — the thought of travelling alone.

“We have a garden,” Jinwoo tells Mino, walking up beside him and linking their arms. He leans in and talks conspiratorially, like this is their little secret. “We can grow cactus and squash and okra. We even have a beehive.”

“Have you grown flowers?” Mino asks, just because.

Jinwoo shakes his head sadly and lifts one hand to touch the flowers that line his silk scarf. “No flowers. Maybe one day when the world sorts itself out again.”

As they walk arm in arm, Jinwoo stares at Mino and smiles, completely unaware of the roots and dips of the trail. His smile is light and carefree, like he trusts Mino implicitly to guide the way and save him from any falls.

“You’re very handsome, Mino,” Jinwoo states. “Have you ever had a girlfriend?”

Mino throws his head back and laughs. Jinwoo raises his brows and cocks his head.

“Boyfriend?”

“Never had enough time for that, you know, with the whole staying alive part,” Mino says and grinning sheepishly, adds on — “Girlfriend or boyfriend.”

Jinwoo nods his head approvingly. “A man who loves everyone, I like that.”

He must have had enough of staring at Mino and he finally looks ahead.

They’re in a valley between two mountains. The two slopes cast the terrain in shadow. At least they are protected from the blazing sun. Mino and Seunghoon had felt nervous as soon as they started their hike through the valley. There weren’t many places to hide here and if anyone came across them, they were sitting ducks. 

Seunghoon walks behind them. He holds his rifle at the ready and he has a knife attached to his belt. His eyes are narrow as he watches and listens for any unusual sounds or movements.

“How did you meet Seunghoon?” Mino asks suddenly, remembering how Jinwoo and Seunghoon kissed each other so tenderly yesterday evening.

“I trapped him,” Jinwoo says and he laughs fondly. “He had his foot stuck in one of my lures.”

“I was quite the catch,” Seunghoon says, striding up to them and throwing an arm over Jinwoo’s shoulders, successfully dislodging his hold on Mino’s arm.

“Yes, you were,” Jinwoo agrees as he reaches up to smooth an unruly piece of hair atop Seunghoon’s head. S eunghoon catches Jinwoo’s hand and presses a kiss in the centre of his palm.

Their affection is easy and natural. Mino almost feels jealous. He’s never been kissed. He’s never been looked at like how they look at each other.

“Get a room,” He grumbles and the couple jumps back from each other.

“Sorry,” Jinwoo says shyly. “I guess we’re not used to company.”

They fall back into step after that, Jinwoo and Mino walking side-by-side and Seunghoon loping along behind them.

“Did you see many beautiful places with your sister?” Jinwoo asks.

“As beautiful as things can be, I guess,” He shrugs.

Jinwoo gives him a look. “Things can always be beautiful, Mino.”

As he looks down at Jinwoo’s big eyes, his long lashes, Mino has to agree.

Mino realizes then that he doesn’t know anything about Jinwoo other than that he’s beautiful and kind and a little bit odd.

“Seunghoon?” Mino asks quietly, slowing his pace to let Jinwoo walk ahead of them until he is out of earshot. “Where is Jinwoo from?”

“All I know is that he came from the South islands,” Seunghoon says. “He only has five brands on his arm. He’s never said why.”

“He’s a long way from home,” Mino remarks.

“I met him in Seoul around five years ago. He said that he’s traveled by himself for most of his life.”

Mino chooses his next words carefully. “Is that why he’s sort of…weird?”

Thankfully, Seunghoon grins.

“I guess being alone for so long makes you a little stir-crazy,” His eyes go soft as he watches Jinwoo thread his fingers through the long weeds that grow alongside the trail. “It’s refreshing, really, the way he thinks”

As they exit the valley, they walk into a forest, or what used to be one. The trees are dead and it looks like a fire has scoured through the brush not long ago. Mino can see a few charred statues that dot between the trees. This must have been a park once upon a time.

They come across a bed of rocks that was most likely once a river brimming full of water from the melting snow on the mountains. They’ve been living off of this wasteland for most of their lives and they know well enough that if they dig deep enough, a pool of water may well up.

It’s murky and dark, definitely not drinkable until they boil it, but it’s enough fill their water bottles and to clean themselves.

Seunghoon and Mino stand side by side, their backs to Jinwoo as he takes his turn washing the dust off of his body. Seunghoon is holding on to Jinwoo’s silk scarf because he didn’t want it to get dirty. Jinwoo’s singing rings through the trees, sweet and clear, a replacement birdsong among the empty and listless forest. 

> _My mother, she killed me,_
> 
> _My father, he ate me,_
> 
> _My sister Marlene,_
> 
> _Gathered all my bones,_
> 
> _Tied them in a silken scarf,_
> 
> _Laid them beneath the juniper tree,_
> 
> _Tweet, tweet, what a beautiful bird am I._

“I know we’re on better terms now,” Seunghoon says. “But here’s one last warning: touch him wrong and you’re dead.” 

His eyes burn both fierce and fearful as he stares resolutely ahead. This time it’s not a macabre game at pushing Mino’s buttons. It’s a threat that would be fulfilled in seconds if Mino were to make one wrong move.

But there’s a shakiness in Seunghoon’s voice that Mino can’t decipher, like if Mino touched Jinwoo the wrong way, Seunghoon wouldn’t necessarily do the killing.

-

“You know how you ripped those pages out of your book?” Mino asks later as they walk through ruins of buildings that are becoming more and more densely packed.

Jinwoo nods.

“Why didn’t you like the story?”

He shrugs. “It had a happy ending.”

-

They walk for a long time but it’s not a chore. Mino is used to walking all day. When you live on the road, that’s all you do. You walk and sleep and walk again. It’s a monotonous existence but Mino and Dana had thought up many ways to pass the time.

Mino counts how many colours he can see on their path. There is a lot of grey and brown. Grey concrete and brown dust. But some of the concrete is bluish-grey or greenish-grey. The dirt comes in hues, gold and tawny, clay and sand. The way light scatters across the colours changes them even more. He wishes he could put it all down on paper and categorize them. He wishes he could paint with colour so that he could keep them forever.

It seems that Seunghoon and Jinwoo have games of their own. They’re playing some sort of word-game, where Seunghoon says a word, then Jinwoo has to say another one using the last syllable of the previous word, and then Seunghoon has to do the same.

Seunghoon is quick and creative but Jinwoo always tries to cheat, making up words and swearing on his life that he’d heard them before.

They bring Mino into the game. Seunghoon grabs him with excited hands, ecstatic that they finally have three players.

He’s quickly disappointed as Mino proves himself to be even worse than Jinwoo.

“You’re both bad at this,” Seunghoon whines. “Am I the only one who has ever read a book?”

They walk for a few more hours, along empty and dusty streets. Old, rusted cars litter the curbs of sidewalks. Mino wonders who parked there for the last time and what happened for them never to return.

He can’t help but look up at the buildings that tower over him. It’s a humbling thought, to know that years ago, people occupied every floor. Millions of people used to live here. Thousands would have been walking with them on this very street. But now it’s only the three of them.

“We’re nearly there,” Seunghoon says, leading them down several narrow alleys.

They go through a few archways and into a building. The ceiling is tall and their footsteps echo on an intricate tile floor. This place must have been fancy and expensive. Mino can almost picture the hoards of socialites traipsing through the foyer in their luxurious clothes. 

Turning the corner, Mino let’s out a yelp when he sees a skeleton lying in the middle of the hallway.

The flesh is long decomposed but the clothes are still mostly intact. Mino knows what happened to at least one of these socialites.

“It was there when we found this place,” Seunghoon explains. “It scares people away from coming any further, so we left it.”

“Good job on that,” Mino says, his voice shaking. “I don’t want to come any further.”

“He’s our guard, Mino,” Jinwoo says. “He protects us.”

“Look,” Seunghoon says. “I know you don’t trust us completely, but we won’t kill you unless you make us, okay?”

Taking a deep breath, Mino nods. He follows the others and takes a timid step overtop of the corpse, afraid that it might suddenly jump at him.

The hallways have no windows and it’s nearly pitch black as Seunghoon guides them around the endless dark corners.

Mino keeps one hand on the wall to keep his bearings. He runs his hands along wooden door-frames and metal nobs. Out of pure curiosity, he goes to turn one, hoping that it will be unlocked, just to see what’s inside. But before the door creaks open, Jinwoo grabs his wrist.

“You’ve seen enough gruesome sights,” He whispers as he makes Mino close it again.

“Nearly there,” Seunghoon calls out, his voice echoing from ahead.

Jinwoo grabs his hand and leads him down the last stretch of hallways.

Seunghoon throws open a door and Mino is blinded by the sudden light that pours through.

“Welcome home,” Jinwoo says, pulling him through the doorway. 

As his eyes adjust, the first thing Mino notices is that he’s entered a large courtyard. The entire space is surrounded by the building. When Mino looks up, the four walls of the building stretch above him to reveal a small square of sky. It makes him feel dizzy.

The room is as ostentatious as the foyer. He can sense the luxury within the architecture. There are sweeping verandas that line the circumference of the space. Tiles decorate the floor, each mosaics of their own. The tiles are colourful and together they make a swirl of blue and golden waves that congregate towards the centre and stop at a dried up fountain.

At the centre of the fountain is a statue of a woman. She would be naked if not for the sheer piece of stone fabric that covers her body. She has her arm stretched out and atop of her graceful finger perches a little songbird. Her face is serene, her mouth open like she’s singing along.

Mino touches the bird and finds him humming the tune of Jinwoo’s song.

Jinwoo and Seunghoon have made the space suit their needs. On the west side, the wooden structure of the verandas is covered in tarps, Mino peers under them and sees a large mattress sitting on several crates, pillows of various shapes and sizes sit neatly on top of a plush duvet.

Just to the left is a cooking space. Dried plants hang on banisters, pots and pans line up on the wall. It looks like they’ve fabricated some sort of stove and oven where they could cook. Mino thinks he might even see a spice rack.

They’ve made a home for themselves, Mino thinks. It looks lived in and comfortable — a place where life and love can bloom. 

Mino wonders what it’s like to be this settled. Him and his sister had never managed to find somewhere they felt safe enough to stay.

“We’ve lived here for almost two years,” Seunghoon says, surveying his property with a proud look on his face. “It’s secluded enough that any intruders would have a hard time finding us. We can catch rainwater on the roof and here in the fountain. We have a garden in here for plants that prefer more shade and then another outside the courtyard, around the back.”

“Seunghoon is quite the homemaker,” Jinwoo says, coming up behind Seunghoon, wrapping his arms around his middle and snuggling into his back. “He’s good at making things. Like that oven over there, that’s his pride and joy.”

“Jinwoo does most of the gardening,” Seunghoon tells Mino, intertwining his fingers with the  ones that rest on his stomach. “There wouldn’t be anything to cook if nothing grew.”

“This place is amazing,” Mino says honestly, looking around in awe.

“It’s quite nice, isn’t it?,” Jinwoo agrees.

It’s cozy and warm and Mino can already feel his eyes start drooping, their time on the road finally catching up to him.

“You must be exhausted,” Jinwoo says worriedly. “You’re still injured. Go rest on the bed while we make dinner.”

Mino complies, a bone-deep weariness spreading over him. He makes his way over to the bed as Seunghoon and Jinwoo start to bicker over what they should cook for dinner.

The bed looks soft and comfortable. Mino feels sleepy just looking at it. Not knowing if he would be crossing a line if he went under the covers, Mino tentatively sits on the edge. 

But instead of the plushness that he is expecting, he lands on something hard. Reaching behind him, he feels a small rectangular object in his back pocket.

It’s his notebook. He pulls it out and leafs through the pages, all full with as many sketches as he could fit. He stops at his last sketch, cramped into the righthand corner of the second to last page. It’s a rough sketch of his sister laughing, leaning through a window and watching as it rained for the first time in weeks. He remembers drawing it, only a few hours before they were caught by those two savage men as they filled their canteens in a crater filled with rainwater. He remembers being proud of the drawing — he was able to capture the spark of mirth in her eyes in a way he has struggled to prior. 

He thought he had lost everything — his possessions, his sister, his life. But he didn’t lose this. And that makes this sketchbook precious. It’s like his mother’s photo, it’s a window into his past, where he was as happy and whole as he could have been.

There is an ache, a longing, right in the pit of his stomach. Mino wants to reach out and touch his sister again. It’s like he can feel her absence as acutely as he could feel her when she was alive.

“Let’s check your ribs before you sleep,” He hears Jinwoo say as sits down and motions for Mino to remove his shirt.

He’s almost forgotten about them, the once searing pain has dulled to a subtle ache. It still hasn’t been that long, he needs to be more careful or he risks re-injuring them.

Jinwoo carefully unwinds the bandages and winces at what he sees.

Mino looks down. The bruises look worse than before. Mottled purple, blue, and green. It looks like he’s rotting away.

“This is a good thing,” Jinwoo says, leaning over to a box beside mattress and pulling out a small container. “Bruises always look worse before they get better.”

“Does life do that too?” Mino mutters glibly. Jinwoo smiles and takes out some sort of salve, gently rubbing it into his side. 

The moment the salve touches his skin, Mino feels a tingling warmth spread, the aching pain soothed almost instantly.

“It’s a herb I grew. I mix it with honey.” Jinwoo explains. “I don’t exactly know what it is, but I was given a few seeds by a lady I used to know. She said it helped with pain.”

Seeds are more precious than gold. Seeds have been the cause for countless numbers of deaths. Seeds, such little things, are everything. It’s a gift that he knows Jinwoo would consider priceless.

“What happened to the lady?” Mino asks curiously.

“She’s gone,” Jinwoo answers and starts to rewrap Mino’s side.

Mino let’s him work silently for a while but the questions keep coming.

“What were you doing when you found me?” Mino asks. “You were far from the city.”

“We needed water for our crops,” He says. “There hasn’t been rain in weeks until a few days ago. The clouds looked darker to the North. Seunghoon and I had already been to where we found you. There’s a crater from a bomb there, so if it rains, there’s a good chance it might fill with water.”

Jinwoo’s nimble fingers halt for a moment. “We heard your screams.”

Looking down, Mino flips through his notebook again, something to keep him distracted from the emotions threatening to overwhelm him.

“I don’t know if I should thank you or not,” He whispers.

Jinwoo leans down to make Mino look him the eyes. His eyebrows are furrowed and his lips are pursed.

“I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again,” He says seriously. “I’m glad you’re here, Mino. I mean it.”

Jinwoo looks adorable when he’s determined.

“You’re here for a reason,” Jinwoo continues. “We’re all here for a reason. No matter what we’ve done in the past, there has to be a purpose for it.”

“Then, thank you.”

Jinwoo’s answering smile is radiant.

“You’re welcome,” He says happily, patting him on the side.

Standing back up, Jinwoo holds up Mino’s shirt to eye level.

“This won’t do,” He says, frowning as he looks at the holes along the collar and sleeves. “This is falling apart at the seams.”

“Sorry,” Mino shrugs. “All the malls were closed.”

Jinwoo ignores his joke and goes to a far corner of the room to rummage through another crate. He pulls out a blue plaid button-up and a grey t-shirt, throwing them in Mino’s direction. “Here. This will keep you warm in the evenings.”

Mino pulls on the t-shirt. It’s soft and it smells nice.

“Now rest,” Jinwoo orders. “Dinner will be ready soon.”

Mino curls up on his side. He’s amazed by how the mattress moulds to his sore body. He bounces up and down, just to hear the springs creak and groan. It’s been years since he has slept in a bed, let alone a clean one. 

Pulling the collar of his new shirt to his nose, he smells the fabric. The scents of mint and rosemary tickle his nose. As he drifts off to sleep, he can hear the crackle of a newly kindled fire and Jinwoo as he sings his song.

_Tweet, tweet, what a beautiful bird am I._

-

Jinwoo and Seunghoon’s raised voices wake him.

“What do you mean, he should go on his way?” Jinwoo says angrily. “You want to kick him out and let him fend for himself?”

“We have enough trouble feeding ourselves let alone a third, Jinwoo,” Seunghoon responds, his voice tight and measured. “I only want the best for us. I’m trying to be logical here.”

“Logical?” Jinwoo scoffs. “You have the same logic as those swarm leaders. It’s logical that they starve their people and keep all the food for themselves. It’s logical to kill the people who become hindrances. Less mouths to feed, right? They have trouble feeding themselves let alone the sick and the elderly. Logic can be an evil thing to follow, Seunghoon.”

They are so immersed in their argument that they don’t notice when Mino gets up from the bed and pads over to them. Seunghoon rips open his mouth to say something back but stops when Mino coughs.

“I could go,” Mino says. “I don’t want to burden you.”

“No!” Jinwoo cries out, standing between them. “Mino, _you can’t._ Remember what I said? You’re here for a reason.”

Mino looks at Seunghoon who looks back at him, a guilty frown on his face.

“I was never going to kick you out. I would give you the option, of course. I just need to keep him safe, you have to understand.” He explains and Mino nods. He understands the need to keep the one good thing in your life safe and whole and healthy. 

He is about to open his mouth and say so but Jinwoo doesn’t let him get a word in.

“I can take care of myself, Seunghoon,” Jinwoo spits, baring his teeth. “I’ve lived on my own the longest. I’m not some damsel in distress. I know how to survive in this shit-hole as well as anyone. And I’m the one who saved _you,_ if you don’t remember. Now, I’m saving him.”

“Jinwoo, don’t worry,” Mino starts but Jinwoo holds up a hand.

“Shut the fuck up. Both of you,” He says. “I’m the oldest and I say he stays. It’s time for you to respect that.”

Seunghoon looks shocked, like in the five years he has known him, this is the first time Jinwoo has ever spoken to him this way.

“This is the end of this discussion,” Jinwoo says with finality. “Unless you want leave, Mino. It’s ultimately your choice but I wouldn’t recommend it. I really don’t want you to die.”

After that, Jinwoo stands resolutely, his head held high and his hands clenched into fists. He looks like he’s waiting for them to argue. 

It’s Seunghoon that brings them out of it, clapping his hands and making them jump. “I think dinner is ready. Let’s eat.”

“Yes — yes, let’s eat,” Jinwoo nods and puts his serene smile back in place. It doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

It is clear that despite Jinwoo’s attempt to bring them back to normalcy, Jinwoo is still the most affected from his outburst. His hands shake as he gather plates and forks. He almost burns himself while taking the squash off the grill. Seunghoon eventually takes over, snatching the plates from Jinwoo’s twitching grip and bringing them to their table.

It’s rickety and if Mino rests his elbow on the corner, it tilts with a thump. Mino assumes that Seunghoon made it himself before he started to get more skill.

The food is good, grilled squash and more beans. The squash is cut in thick slices. It’s salty and sweet and tender and Mino almost moans when the flavour first hits his tongue.

Seunghoon and Mino eat quickly and efficiently. It is a long engrained instinct to eat as much as possible before it can be taken away. But Jinwoo is different, he spends at least five minutes cutting his piece of squash into neat little squares. Then, he lines them up in perfectly spaced rows and eats them one by one, chewing thoroughly before he swallows.

Their plates have long been empty by the time Jinwoo is even half way through his meal. Mino glances at Seunghoon to see if he finds this strange too but Seunghoon just looks at the fire, his arm casually slung over the back of Jinwoo’s chair like this is their common evening routine.

It’s awkward to watch someone else eat so slowly, Mino realizes, and he stands up abruptly to look for something to do.

“Can I help clean up?”

“Huh?” Seunghoon mumbles, pulled from his thoughts. “Um — sure, there’s a bucket of water beside the oven. Take a cloth and wipe the plates down.”

“Only dip the cloth once, please!” Jinwoo reminds him as he pops a perfect cube of squash into his mouth. “And make sure to ring it out.”

Mino does as he’s told, used to conserving water to almost obsessive measures. It relaxes him, carefully wiping down forks and plates, scrubbing the dented copper of the pan until it’s shining. He likes being useful.

Once he is finished, he turns back to see that Jinwoo still isn’t done eating. Seunghoon is leaning over and whispering into his ear. He has that serious look on his face, similar to the one he had yesterday evening by the fire before Mino punched him in the face.

Whatever he is saying, he takes his time explaining it to Jinwoo, who listens carefully. Eventually, they seem to come to some sort of consensus, and Jinwoo pulls back and nods.

They’re talking about him, he knows it. He’s already calculated how much food and water he’ll need to take to safely get to Daegu. He has taken too much of their hospitality already. It’s time he learned how to live alone.

“Mino?” Seunghoon says quietly in a way that makes Mino’s shoulders tense.

“Yes?” Mentally, Mino curses himself when he hears that his voice is shaking.

Seunghoon surprises him by smiling “I’m sorry for saying I wanted you to leave and I’m sorry for being so insensitive the other night.”

“It’s fine,” Mino starts to say but Seunghoon speaks above him.

“You are welcome to stay here. For as long as you’d like. You’re welcome here, Mino.”

Jinwoo smiles at both of them, satisfied with Seunghoon’s apology.

“I have one more question and then you don’t have to mention it again,” Seunghoon says suddenly and the smile on Jinwoo’s face is wiped away. “I just need to know.”

Mino nods. “Go ahead.”

“Why did they attack you?” Seunghoon asks carefully. “The men who killed your sister?”

“ _Don’t ask him that,_ ” Jinwoo hisses like he already knows.

But it’s an easy answer.

“We had food,” Mino says simply. “They didn’t.”

It’s the start of every fight and it’s the end of every fight too. It’s terrible, that something as simple as food could lead humanity to where it is now.

Jinwoo eyes are haunting as he sets down his fork and looks into the fire. “Hunger makes people do horrible things.

His piece of squash is only half-eaten.

Jinwoo doesn’t take another bite.

-

They end up dragging another mattress down from an empty room upstairs. Mino gets his own corner of the courtyard, plopping the mattress on some extra crates and piling it with as many pillows as he can fit.

He spends the next few days helping Seunghoon to construct a viaduct that will gather the rain water more effectively. It’s back-breaking work but he sleeps well at night, his mind and muscles both exhausted.

Jinwoo teaches him how to garden, to get his hands down in the soft dirt and feel the health of the soil. It’s nice to grow something and to not fear that someone may die because they don’t grow enough.

In Jinwoo’s garden, he lets the plants grow because they can. He treats them well and thanks them for the gifts of food that they give him. They rarely speak when they work in the garden. Jinwoo only sings, saying that the leaves seem to perk up when he does.

He learns that Seunghoon goes to bed early and wakes up at the crack of dawn each day, taking his rifle and walking the perimeter of the building to check for anything that might be amiss.

He learns that Jinwoo barely sleeps. Instead, he putters around the courtyard during the night, stoking the fire or humming quietly as he looks up to the square of stars that appear above the building. When Jinwoo does sleep, it’s usually in the morning, and only for a few hours.

That means that when Seunghoon wakes up, Jinwoo has just fallen asleep. 

Mino has been woken several times by Seunghoon rustling around and getting dressed. When he’s ready, he sets his rifle by the side of their bed and sits down on the edge. He stays there for a few minutes and stares down at Jinwoo’s sleeping face. Threading gentle fingers through Jinwoo’s hair, Seunghoon leans down to give him a kiss on the forehead before he goes on his walk.

Seunghoon and Jinwoo are an odd pair, Mino comes to know.

They fight and bicker and pout at each other but they always kiss and apologize. They’ve been together for a long time, but they still hold hands and look at each other like they’ve fallen in love for the very first time. 

In many ways, Mino knows that he is a trespasser to Jinwoo and Seunghoon’s hard won oasis. He doesn’t feel at home despite their welcome.

He confesses this to Jinwoo one day as they sink their hands into the dirt. Jinwoo reminds him that his only home was murdered and burned away. That it will take time for him to feel settled again.

Jinwoo starts making him pull his weight more and more. He makes dinner and cleans up. He helps mend the table so that it sits straight. Some mornings, he joins Seunghoon on his patrols and they walk silently but more comfortably each passing day. 

This isn’t home but it’s starting to become a place where Mino can rest his head, where he doesn’t feel the constant, overwhelming need to run and never look back. 

Maybe that is home, Mino thinks. He doesn’t know, he’s never really had one.

-

The rain fall becomes more scarce as the scorching heat of summer sets in.

Jinwoo’s plants start dying, the heat and lack of water finally too much for them. He mourns each of their passings like they were old friends, digging them up with careful hands and burning them away, cradling their seeds like a eulogy.

They have to start rationing their food and water. The three of them begin hunting for meat more often, setting up traps, luring in starving animals with the promise of food and eating them instead.

Jinwoo says that he hates eating meat. He only eats enough to keep himself healthy and even then he holds his stomach with a pained look on his face, as if he has committed some horrid offence.

When they’re not hunting, they’re not doing anything. There’s no point in working hard until the rain falls again. It is better to conserve their energy and wait out the drought for as long as they can.

This gives them time to talk. They end up talking more than they ever had the past few weeks. Their conversations range from discussions on hypothetical revolutions against the swarms to what super-power they would like to have. Mino wants to have super-strength and Seunghoon, speed.

“I’d like to be able to change the past,” Jinwoo says.

“I thought everything happened for a reason,” Seunghoon counters, chuckling. “You’re always saying that.”

Jinwoo just shrugs. “I guess that’s why we don’t have super-powers. That way you can’t play with fate. But I can dream.”

“First kiss?” Mino asks, changing the subject as he lies on his bed and looks up at the stars. They decided to push their beds out into the centre of the courtyard. It made lying around all day less boring because at least they could look at the sky and the wisps of clouds that teased at rain.

“I’ve been to many places and met many people,” Seunghoon says first. Leaving it at that, he turns to Jinwoo.

Jinwoo blushes and covers his face with his hands.

“You never told me that I was your first kiss,” Seunghoon teases.

“Shut up,” Jinwoo grumbles, pretending to push Seunghoon off the bed.

“I haven’t kissed anyone at all,” Mino admits and then sits back to take in all of Seunghoon and Jinwoo’s mocking cackles.

As much as they laugh and joke and waste their time gazing at the stars, in the backs of their minds, they’re getting worried. If it doesn’t rain soon, they’ll have to leave and move on to wherever they can find water.

Despite their growing anxiety, Mino starts to feel like he belongs. He starts to look at Seunghoon and Jinwoo as his friends rather than his saviours. He likes it here. It’s a safe-haven. He wishes his sister could be here too, that she could have the safe-haven he never could provide for her.

They’ve seen the hawk several times now. It’s always far above them, circling over their heads. Seunghoon, ever the pragmatist, says it’s probably waiting for them to die so it can get a good meal. Jinwoo says it’s his sister watching over them.

Mino likes to think that the hawk is a good omen. The bird is an accurate totem, cunning and free. He can see his sister in the grace of its flight, in its lack of tethers to the ground.

But it needs to rain. If it doesn’t rain, soon they’ll become birds too. They’re slaves to nature. The people of the past were fools to think that they ever had any control over it.

Mother nature, Mino thinks, has become a hardened woman. Maybe she’s seen the way humanity has raped and pillaged her beauty. Maybe she’s punishing them. All they can do now is wait, wait for nature to give them some sympathy, to cry for her dry, cracked skin and her starving children.

Mino waits under an ominously clear sky and dreams of birds and raindrops.

-

Their waiting pays off and they wake up to rain on their faces.

Seunghoon and Jinwoo whip out of bed and gather as many basins as they can carry. Mino does the same and follows them out of the courtyard into the streets.

As soon as they’re outside, they’re soaked to the skin. It’s like the clouds had saved all the rain until now, pouring its reserves in buckets. It’s torrential. Mino has never seen it rain this hard.

“The world is changing,” Jinwoo laughs as he dances amongst downpour. “It doesn’t rain often but when it does it rains more than it did before.”

It rains for hours. The streets flood because the dry soil can’t take the sudden burst of moisture. They fill all of their water basins until they are full and then they fill the fountain in the courtyard. They’ll have enough water for weeks.

When the rain stops, Jinwoo runs to his garden and checks on his bees. The hive seems to be in working order and he breathes a sigh of relief. 

Usually, Jinwoo’s garden is meticulously kept, the borders clean and straight and the lines of plants in perfect order. But after the rain, everything is messy and dirty and gloriously wet. The plants that did survive the drought are gleaming, diamond water droplets dotted on their leaves as they drink their fill.

It’s not a pretty garden like it was before the drought but thanks to the rain, it now has much more potential than before. Mino can almost see the flowers blooming in Jinwoo’s eyes.

Jinwoo puts his hand on the soil and presses down, just to feel the water seep through his fingers.

“It’s never been this wet,” He beams, his dimpled cheeks smudged with dirt. 

They spend rest of the day boiling the water until its clean enough to drink. There are gallons and gallons of it and for the first time in a long time, they can drink to their heart’s content.

The three of them use the water to finally wash themselves properly. Mino’s skin finally feels clean and soft. 

“I think Jinwoo’s right,” Seunghoon says, using a t-shirt to dry his hair. “The summer has been milder this year. It rains more often.” He shakes his head like he can’t believe his own words. “Something’s changing.” 

Seunghoon cooks a big dinner, using up more food that they would usually part with, but it’s a celebration. The rain has fallen and in its path, plants will grow again.

Mino begins to hope, as dangerous as it is, that maybe he’ll see flowers in this lifetime.

-

In the evening, before the sun sets, Seunghoon and Mino decide go up the roof to check on the water tanks. The 25 flights of stairs leaves their nearly starved bodies panting and exhausted.

The tank is attached to the irrigation system. Back when rain was a nuisance, something to be disposed of, there were pipes that channeled any rainwater water down the building and into the sewer. Seunghoon had cleverly reworked the pipes so that they traveled to a small row of jugs.

This most recent down-pour has proven too much for it. Seunghoon hadn’t anticipated the need for an overflow and so the the jugs filled and filled until many of them had burst. The clean rainwater joining the rest of the puddles on the ground.

Seunghoon curses his own oversight, but Mino can hear the elation in his tone. Seunghoon is used to these tanks not filling at all.

They make quick work of replacing the jugs with sturdier ones with adequate openings. When they’re done, they sit on the ground, their backs to the ledge and watch the dark clouds turn pink and gold.

“Sometimes I wonder what I would be doing if I was born 100 years ago,” Mino ponders.

Humming, Seunghoon nods. 

“I think I’d be an artist,” He says as he unconsciously reaches into his back pocket for his notebook. “It would nice to create beautiful things all day.”

Seunghoon looks over his shoulder as Mino flips through the countless sketches on the pages. Some are life-like. Others are more abstract, lines and shapes connected until they make sense. Mino likes to look through his notebook and see how he’s changed from the first page to the last.

“I think I’d be the rich business man who’d buy them,” Seunghoon tells him.

When the sun finally disappears on his horizon and the dark starts settling in, they start to make their way downstairs. They know that if they stay there much longer, Jinwoo will come up and drag them down himself.

“He hates being alone,” Seunghoon explains, shoving the heavy door to the stairwell. “He says he’s been alone long enough.”

It’s easier to go down the stairs than up, so they decide to make it a race. Seunghoon’s long legs give him an advantage and Mino is left stumbling down each step as Seunghoon leaps down four steps at a time. 

“You’re cheating!” Mino yells. “You’re no better than Jinwoo!”

Seunghoon’s laughter can be heard from a few flights down.

“ _Bastard,_ ” Mino mutters under his breath and he speeds up, using the railings to jump down half the steps. He starts getting the hang of it and soon his pace is faster than Seunghoon’s, he can hear his panting get closer and closer.

They’re almost at the ground floor and Mino has nearly caught up with him. 

Mino puts his head down and decides to leap down the entire set of stairs. If he can get a good grip on the rails, he should have enough momentum to overtake Seunghoon at the door.

He takes the leap, his knees complaining as his feet land on heavily on the concrete. Seunghoon is standing just before the door. Mino can see his back heave as he catches his breath.

“Tired out, are you?” Mino tries to say as he passes Seunghoon to get to the door.

He never reaches it because Seunghoon claps a hand his mouth and pulls him back to his chest.

Mino starts struggling, thinking that this is another game, that Seunghoon is just being a sore loser but then he hears a voice.

“Rumours are true, then,” The voice says, echoing out from the last hallway leading towards Jinwoo and Seunghoon’s hideout. “There _are_ rats are living in the city.”

Mino stiffens, his eyes going wide and panicked. _Shit_ , this is bad. 

“Can you even speak? Show me your brands, come on.”

“A patrol,” Seunghoon whispers in his ear.

“I’m not afraid to ruin your pretty face,” The man warns. “Show them.”

Seunghoon bares his teeth. He pats down his leg for his knife and holds it tight, his knuckles going white.

There’s a rustle and a thump as Jinwoo drops what he was carrying, probably the harvest of okra that he had been so excited about before they left. Mino knows that Jinwoo isn’t just complying — it’s easier for him to fight and run without the extra weight and the stranger will be unguarded if Jinwoo unexpectedly pounces.

Comply then kill. Mino knows how it goes.

The man chuckles. “You’ve been running a long time, huh? I’ve heard some nasty stories about those years on the islands. People aren’t supposed to have those brands anymore.”

Seunghoon and Mino keep their ears perked but Jinwoo doesn’t give a response. 

“You look thin,” The man says abruptly, lurid humour in his tone. “I look good and healthy, don’t I?”

Jinwoo lets out a growl, panicked and angry. He sounds exactly as he is — a cornered animal with nowhere to go.

“Are you hungry?” The man taunts. “Should I run away before you start to naw on my bones?” 

And it all happens at once: there is a scuffle, there is a gunshot, and there is a scream.

“JINWOO!” Seunghoon yells, bashing through the door.

Mino knows that he should follow. He knows that he should back Seunghoon up. But he’s suddenly paralyzed by fear. His feet are stuck as his mind goes back all those weeks to see the bullets pierce the two men who killed his sister, their blood pooling on the concrete and mixing with hers.

There is a rhythmic wet sound. Mino can’t quite place it but it sends a cold shiver down his spine. He gathers his quickly fleeting courage and follows Seunghoon.

Jinwoo is straddling a man dressed in a dark uniform, stabbing him again and again in the chest. His hair is a mess, his eyes are wide and feral. The blade of his knife glinting redder and redder with each pass.

Seunghoon looks as horrified as Mino feels, except Seunghoon quickly snaps out of his stupor, grabbing Jinwoo under the armpits and hauling him off. He fights against Seunghoon’s hold. 

“Jinwoo, stop!” Seunghoon pleads, gathering Jinwoo to his chest and trying to keep him still.

Turning his head back to the body on the ground, Mino sees that the man is still alive, still struggling, still reaching for a gun that’s just out of reach. 

Mino takes in the sight in front of him and turns around, sliding down the brick wall against his back.

He curls his arms around his legs and rests his chin on top of his bony knees. He listens with a morbid curiosity as Seunghoon tries to soothe Jinwoo who pants and sobs, paces back and forth, interrupting Seunghoon with his slurred and panicked muttering as he tries to make him understand.

“He said I’d eat him. He said I’d naw on his bones. I wouldn’t. I wouldn’t.”

Amidst all this noise is the clear and unmistakable sound of a man choking on his own blood.

_Touch him wrong and you’re dead,_ Seunghoon had said.

Mino thinks he knows what he meant now.

-

Eventually, Seunghoon walks up to Mino, dragging Jinwoo behind him. 

Jinwoo’s hands are covered in blood, his shoulders are shaking as he cries.

“We have to go,” Seunghoon says despondently. “We’re in deep shit.”

Jinwoo keeps sobbing. His legs seem to lose all of their strength and he falls to his knees, rocking back and forth as he holds himself.

“He said I’d eat him. He said I’d eat him.” He mutters again and again.

“We have to get out of the city,” Seunghoon tells Mino and then he turns to face the dead body in the hallway. “They’ll be looking for him. They never let a patrol go uncounted for.”

“He said I’d eat him. I didn’t. I didn’t.”

“Jinwoo, we have to get out of here,” Seunghoon urges, trying to lift Jinwoo back to his feet. “Jinwoo, _please_.”

But Jinwoo is inconsolable.

“No, no, no,” He whimpers, curled up into a tiny shaking ball. “I didn’t, I didn’t, I didn’t eat _him.”_

“Mino,” Seunghoon says, his eyes scared and desperate. “We can’t stay here anymore.”

Mino knows what it’s like to have a home fall apart. He knows the fear of suddenly realizing how fast and how far you have to run, of never feeling safe again. He can see how Seunghoon silently begs him for help as Jinwoo shivers on the ground.

He walks up to Seunghoon puts a steadying hand on his shoulder. Jinwoo had said that he was here for a reason and maybe this is it.

“Then let’s go.”

-

It’s only a short time before the courtyard is in shambles. 

When they first enter, Seunghoon sets Jinwoo down on their bed, brining over their bucket of water with a cloth, and proceeding to wipe every bit of blood from Jinwoo’s hands.

Jinwoo had gone from denial to guilt, grabbing onto Seunghoon’s jacket as he tries to stand up and start packing.

“I’m sorry, Seunghoon,” Jinwoo weeps. “I’m sorry.”

Seunghoon kneels down until they are face to face. He takes Jinwoo’s face in both of his hands, forcing Jinwoo’s wandering eyes to look into his.

“You did nothing wrong,” He says consolingly.

Jinwoo cries and shakes his head like he doesn’t believe him.

“He did the right thing,” Seunghoon says to Mino as he moves around their flat, collecting as much nonperishable food as he can and stuffing them into his pack. “That patrol knew we were here. If Jinwoo let him go, we’d be good as dead. There was nothing he could have done better.”

Jinwoo sits on the centre of their mattress, his back hunched, his face tucked into his knees, one hand scrunched up in his hair, the other clutched around the silk scarf that Seunghoon had given him.

Seunghoon frowns. “But he’s not the type to kill people like that. He tries to not kill anyone if he can get away with it. He just knocks them out cold and moves along. He’s more than capable. He’s one of the best close combat fighters I’ve ever seen.”

“That patrol was taunting him,” Mino says. “He started taunting him when he saw his brands.”

“He’s never told me what happened on that island. I’ve never asked.”

“Why not?” Mino asks. It seems odd for them to be so close but barely know each other.

“None of us have happy stories, Mino. No one does. I’ve seen enough tragedies to last me a life-time."

Seunghoon looks over to Jinwoo’s pitiful shape on the bed.

“I was ready to die when I met him. When you burn your sisters one by one, it’s like a piece of your soul burns with them. By that point, I thought there was nothing left of me. I just survived because I could, the way an animal would.”

Pausing, Seunghoon looks around at the remains of their home, a forlorn expression on his face. It must be hell to see it crumble down, for reality to creep back into their safe haven. 

“My foot got caught on his lure,” He continues. “He’s a good trapper, the only way I would have gotten out was if I sawed it off. It was the middle of the day, right in the sun. I thought I’d die from the heat. I was almost hoping for it when I passed out.”

Seunghoon laughs. “I woke up with him peering over me. I actually thought he was an angel, that I had died and gone to heaven. It’s cliché, I know.”

“I thought the same when I woke up the first time,” Mino admits.

“The more you get to know him, let’s just say he’s no angel, but somehow that makes him even more beautiful. If he can be broken and beautiful then maybe I am too.”

Looking over to where Jinwoo is curled up on their mattress, disheveled and panicked, Mino can see the beauty that Seunghoon describe. He is a mess but he is still beautiful. Jinwoo is always beautiful.

“Do you love him?” He asks.

“With all that’s left of me,” Seunghoon answers and then he shakes his head, his hands clenching on the shirt that he was about to put in his pack. “I don’t need to know about his past. We’re all the same in the end. That’s all that matters.”

“We’re all here for a reason,” Mino says, echoing the words Jinwoo has repeated time and time again.

“That’s where I don’t agree with him,” Seunghoon reveals, his eyes going dark. “The world is too fucked up for us to have a higher purpose.”

The weight of Seunghoon’s words sweep over them and they pack what they need without saying another word. It’s time to go.

The sound of a raven breaks their silence. The croak is shrill, quiet and curious. Another raven answers it and then another. Until the call of at least a dozen ravens rises up into some sort of discordant symphony. 

It makes sense that the birds follow the rain. Flooding can bring up all kinds of bugs and dead things for them to feed on.  Mino takes it as another sign that life is flooding back to this place. This fact makes it even more agonizing to have to leave.  But Jinwoo clutches at his ears, like this is the worst sound he’s ever heard.

“No, no,” Jinwoo moans. “Shut up. Shut _up._ ”

“They’re just birds, Jinwoo,” Seunghoon says, rushing over to him. Jinwoo isn’t listening. Jinwoo is staring at the sky in horror.

“Leave me alone!” He screeches and Seunghoon takes his hand back like he’s been scalded. 

“Leave me alone,” Jinwoo cries. “I’m sorry.”

He’s not talking to Seunghoon. He’s not talking to Mino. He’s talking to the ravens and the ravens answer.


	3. Chapter 3

iii.

 

They have to travel by night. It’s the only way to reach a safe distance from the city before the sun rises and more patrols come looking for the one who didn’t report back.

Seunghoon knows the routes better than anyone. They’re headed up the mountain. It’s somewhere patrols won’t look, too lazy to hike the steep slopes. This fact makes it a good getaway plan. If they can make the formidable incline, they can sleep without fear of being attacked in the night and then move on in the morning.

Their packs are proving to be too heavy though. The years of living in the same place has dulled Seunghoon’s razor-sharp efficiency. He has become bound by sentiment and had packed more than they needed.

Mino’s back is aching with the weight. The muscles in his legs are not used to walking uphill and they scream in protest. The adrenaline is starting to wear off, leaving their nerves frayed and their bodies shaky. They’re tired and traumatized but right now, they are fleeing for their lives and resting isn’t an option yet.

They’re not even half way to where they need to be when Seunghoon finally swings his pack off with a grunt. His movements are sharp and angry as he rips open the larger pocket and starts tossing things out violently.

“Fuck it,” He growls, throwing a pot against a tree with a clang. “Fuck it all.”

By the time he’s done, his pack is a third the weight it was before. He stands back up, adjusts the pack on his back, and takes a deep breath through his nose. It’s his own way of showing grief, Mino thinks, throwing away the last comforts of their previous life and putting the weight of the world back on his shoulders.

“Get rid of what you don’t need,” He orders. “We need to get up to that ridge. We won’t make it far with all this junk.”

Mino complies immediately, getting rid of everything that wasn’t food, water, or clothing. Jinwoo just stands there, staring at nothing.

Something in Jinwoo has shifted. He walks with his head bent, his arms crossed, jumping as a stick cracks beneath his feet. It’s a sharp contrast to the way he walked arm-in-arm with Mino all those weeks ago, like he couldn’t care less about the dangers around him. Now, he looks at his surroundings like they’re out to get him, like the shadows will leap out and drag him away.

Seunghoon walks up to him, gently taking his pack off of his shoulders and setting it on the ground. Jinwoo’s lips wobbles when Seunghoon meets his eyes.

“This is all my fault,” He says hopelessly, watching as Seunghoon unloads his pack for him.

“We were naive to think we’d always be safe here,” Seunghoon answers as he compares which shirt has the least holes in it before folding it neatly. He’s much more careful with Jinwoo’s belongings than he was with his own. He takes Jinwoo’s book out with cautious hands, making sure to surround it with soft clothing as he repacks it, so it doesn’t get damaged as Jinwoo walks.

Once Seunghoon is done, he helps Jinwoo thread his arms through the holes, adjusting any straps until it sits comfortably on his back. 

Seunghoon reaches out and gently cradles Jinwoo’s face in his hands.

“We’ll get through this,” He says, leaning in and kissing him. “That place doesn’t matter. It was nice living there. It was comfortable. We don’t have that anymore but we have each other. That’s all we need.”

Jinwoo gives him a quivering smile.

“We have Mino, too,” He adds. 

Seunghoon chuckles and nods. “Mino, too.” 

-

When they reach the ridge, they’re dead-tired. Mino can’t force his legs to take one more step and he leans on the nearest tree he finds. His legs burn and his feet ache. They shouldn’t be this tired, but after weeks of near starvation, their bodies aren’t as strong as they used to be.

The rain was the glimmer of hope. If the world was a fair place, they would have been back in the courtyard, planning on which vegetables to plant, eagerly awaiting the next harvest. 

But the world isn’t fair and here they are, their bellies empty except for the twisted knot of fear.

Seunghoon collapses on a rock and puts his face into hands. He stays there for a while, so still that it’s like he has become stone himself.

“What do we do know?” Mino says, voicing the question that they’re all thinking.

“Make a fire, eat a bit, and then sleep as much as we can,” Seunghoon states, not making one move to fulfill that proclamation.

“I meant, where do we go from here? What’s the end goal?”

Seunghoon shakes his head in his hands and stays silent, hunching over to rest his weary body.

It is in this moment that Mino feels overwhelmingly young and scared. He wishes that he had his father to guide him and show him the best path. Mino has been following his gut his whole life and hoping for the best. It hasn’t served him well so far.

They’re just kids. All three of them. It isn’t fair that they have to live this way. 

“We should go to the ocean,” Jinwoo says, out of the blue. He’s standing on the edge of the ridge, looking out to the black ocean that stretches beyond the borders of the city.

“We’re already near an ocean,” Seunghoon points out.

“My ocean,” He clarifies. “We should go to my ocean. I’d like you to see where I grew up.”

It’s an awfully far way to go and it’s definitely not a straight path. They have the choice to travel along the coast or traverse more inland. Either way, they face grisly terrain unless they walk on the old highways and who knows what they’ll meet there. 

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” Mino starts to say.

Seunghoon shrugs. “It’s something to do.”

Mino should be used to seeing how easily Seunghoon caves to Jinwoo’s wishes. Seunghoon goes soft if Jinwoo merely looks at him the right way.

“How are we supposed to make good decisions if you always side with him?” Mino asks, frustrated. “Do you even know the way? What if we get lost? What then?”

“We’ll figure it out,” Seunghoon says.

Mino scoffs.

“I’m tired, okay?” Seunghoon says. “We’re all tired. None of us are in a right state of mind to figure out what’s next right now. Let’s sleep on this for a while. We’ll make a decision in the morning.”

He heaves himself off the rock and limps to gather some wood for a fire. Mino takes out supplies to make a rudimentary meal. Canned beans, again. It is better than nothing but they’ll have to start hunting for meat if they want to gain some of their strength back.

The three of them eat in silence. Too tired to talk much.

Jinwoo eats a couple mouthfuls of beans before he says he’s full. He ignores Mino and Seunghoon’s anxious glances and takes his book from his pack. Sitting near the light of the fire, he opens the book, mouthing the words as he reads. Mino can see where some pages have been ripped out. He wonders how many stories have been burned away. It’s a shame. It would have been nice to hear a happy ending.

“Tell me more about that story you like so much,” Mino asks as he and Seunghoon make their beds on the hard dirt. 

“It’s a fairytale,” Jinwoo says, running his fingers across the smudged ink of the page. “But not the kind where the princess kisses the prince and lives happily ever after.”

“Then what kind is it?”

“It’s a gruesome one,” He explains, a giddy smile on his pale face. “It’s about a boy. A boy whose father remarried after his mother died.”

“An evil stepmother,” Seunghoon says. “So original.”

Jinwoo gives Seunghoon a glare, shutting him up.

“His stepmother hated him,” He continues. “She was jealous of him, so she lured him over an open chest, filled with red apples. She offered one to him and while he leaned over the chest to grab one, she crashes the lid on his neck, cutting his head clean-off. The stepmother didn’t know what to do with the body, so she chopped him up, cooked him in a stew, and fed him to his father.”

“Ew,” Mino grimaces but Jinwoo ignores him.

“The boy had a step-sister. Somehow she knew what her mother had done, so she gathered all of her brother’s bones in her silk scarf and buried them underneath a tree. The tree turned the brother into a songbird and he flew and sang about what his stepmother had done. He got revenge on his stepmother, killing her and coming back to life. The boy, his sister, and his father lived happily together.”

“I thought you didn’t like happy endings,” Mino mentions.

“The stepmother didn’t have a happy ending,” Jinwoo says, like it’s obvious.

“Is this why you think people become birds when they die?” Mino asks. “To get revenge?”

“Everything is a cycle. We burn the dead, the smoke rises and the birds in the sky breathe it in. It makes sense that a part of someone could be in a bird.”

Mino doesn’t argue, he can’t keep his eyes open much longer. We wonders what kind of people the ravens had breathed in to make Jinwoo fear them so much.

“Do you think you can sleep tonight, Jinwoo?” Seunghoon asks as he uses a shirt for a pillow, propping up his head.

Jinwoo shakes his head, he has his silk scarf spread out on his thighs, his hands running over the smooth threads, counting the petals of the embroidered flowers. “I’ll keep watch.”

They close their eyes and fall asleep to Jinwoo’s quiet lullaby. 

> _My mother, she killed me,_
> 
> _My father, he ate me,_
> 
> _My sister Marlene,_
> 
> _Gathered all my bones,_
> 
> _Tied them in a silken scarf,_
> 
> _Laid them beneath the juniper tree,_
> 
> _Tweet, tweet, what a beautiful bird am I._

Somewhere in the distance, a raven calls.

-

It is the screaming that wakes Mino up.

“ _Go away!”_

Mino and Seunghoon spring from their blankets, their sleep-clumsy hands grappling for any weapon that they can find.

Their worries are baseless. Jinwoo is on all fours, his knuckles bloody as his hands scramble along the ground for rocks to throw at the raven perched on the top branch of a barren tree.

“What do you want? I said I’m sorry!”

Jinwoo hurls a rock with weak arms. His aim is terrible and the rocks hits a neighbouring tree with a crack. The raven tilts its head, unfazed by the human’s assault. Seunghoon halts Jinwoo’s hand before he can throw another rock. He gathers him into his arms and moves with him as Jinwoo struggles against his hold.

“It’s just a bird,” He says, running his hands up and down Jinwoo’s arms.

Jinwoo tries to fling one more rock before his arm goes limp, all of his fight leaving him in a rush.

“They hate me, Seunghoon,” He sobs into Seunghoon’s shoulder, curling into his lap and making himself as small as possible. “They hate me so much. They want to make me hurt. They’re driving me crazy.”

Seunghoon wraps his arms around him and rocks him gently, kissing the crown of his head and whispering in his ear.

“I’ll protect you from them,” He says. “They can’t hurt you if I’m here.”

He grabs a stone beside him and fires it at the raven. Seunghoon’s aim is dead-centre, hitting the branch where the raven perches. It let’s out a cry of surprise, flapping it’s wings indignantly before it flies away.

“There,” He states. “All gone. See? Told you I’d protect you.”

Jinwoo nods and hides away in the crook of Seunghoon’s neck.

“There’s something wrong with me,” Jinwoo says. “There’s something wrong with my head.”

“There’s something wrong with the world,” Seunghoon answers vehemently, kissing Jinwoo’s temple.

Mino looks on silently, afraid of intruding on their moment. His ears still ring with Jinwoo’s screams. They’re eerily similar to the screams that left his sister’s mouth all those weeks ago. It puts him on edge. It gives his thoughts a dark turn.

_But we’re part of the world,_ Mino thinks. _If the world is fucked then so are we._

-

Seunghoon tries to get Jinwoo to sleep a few hours, letting Jinwoo wrap around him, huddle together in their small sleeping bag. They’re both fatigued and irritated the next morning. Jinwoo didn’t even close his eyes last night, too afraid of the darkness where the halo of the fire couldn’t reach.

Jinwoo is having a difficult time, Seunghoon says. Seunghoon asks Mino to give him space to grieve. He’s never seen Jinwoo kill someone so brutally — it’s okay to be a little messed up in the head after that.

They’ve all had to kill people. The last kill is no less traumatizing than the first. The gravity of taking another life, if only for your own survival, never loses it’s weight. But eventually you have to be able to shake it off and move on. It is senseless to let the dead eat a way at you.

“Jinwoo isn’t used to killing someone like that,” Seunghoon explains. “Jinwoo doesn’t like killing. I think he feels it more than other people. He feels guilty.Except for those men” — Mino knows exactly the men he’s referring to — “he didn’t feel too guilty about killing them.”

Mino pictures their gritty hands on his sister’s wrists.

“Good,” He sneers.

Mino doesn’t know why Jinwoo is so perturbed by killing this patrol, though. People don’t become patrols due to their compassion. That man had probably committed many disgusting offences before he wound up in Jinwoo’s path. Pity is the last thing Jinwoo should feel for him.

“Don’t tell me how to feel, Mino!” Jinwoo spits at him when he tries to tell him such. “Do you listen to anything I say? You don’t kill someone and leave unscathed. That sticks with you.”

“You think we don’t all know that?” Mino says. “There was nothing you could have done. You did the right thing. You said everything happened for a reason, I listened to that.”

“When did I say that reason had to be good.”

Mino flinches. This was so far from the Jinwoo he first met, the one who held his hand and cried with him and said everything would be okay, that everything would be beautiful.

“You need to sleep,” Mino suggests, shaken. “You haven’t slept for days. You’re not thinking straight.”

“I know,” Jinwoo says, getting agitated and starting to pace. “I know.”

“I’m just worried. You’ve been acting weird.”

Jinwoo looks pained, bringing up shaking hands to cover his ears.

“They’re loud,” He explains.

“What do you mean?” Mino begins to asks but Seunghoon puts a firm hand on his shoulder. 

“Mino,” He says. “That’s enough.”

They’re still on edge when they eat breakfast and start to make their way down the other side of the mountain. It’s an unspoken decision to travel north-west to Gwangju — if only to put Jinwoo’s mind on something else. 

They decide to take the risk and follow the highways. It is better to face whatever foe comes their way than to let the elements kill them. In the end, it’s a good decision, the highway is relatively clear except for a few empty cars scattered here and there. The faded signs allow them to have some inkling of where they are and how far they need to go, Seunghoon’s intuition does the rest.

After three days of walking, it rains again. It pours so much that they have to find shelter. They drink as much of the rainwater as they can while it rains, making sure that their canteens are filled to the brim before it stops.

It’s the second rainfall in five days. They’re used to no rain at all. There is so much water that they don’t really know what to do. They just watch as the soil drinks its fill, changing from a dry beige to a lush chestnut brown.

When the rain finally stops, they make their way back onto the road. Mino runs his hand along the hood of a car, watching the water droplets run down the smooth metal.

“It always smells so nice after it rains,” Seunghoon says, closing his eyes and breathing in the damp, fresh fair.

The sun peeks out from behind the dark clouds. The light is bright and soft and golden. All of the colours around them appear more vibrant against the glowing sun and the somber clouds.

Mino is so entranced by the sights of around him, that he barely notices it when the raven sweeps across the sky, cawing with each flap of it’s black wings.

They can’t help but notice how Jinwoo flinches.

-

Eat, walk, eat, sleep, eat, walk, eat, sleep.

Their routine is so tedious that the days start to blend together. Mino can’t remember one day from the next. 

The highway is barren. The most dangerous thing they come across is a stray dog and even then, it only glares at them as they pass. Mino almost wishes that they could come across some semblance of humanity, it didn’t matter if they were a friend or an enemy.

They eat, walk, eat, sleep but Jinwoo doesn’t even do half of those things. He eats the bare minimum, complaining that the food tastes acrid on his tongue. The dark circles under his big eyes are turning a deep purple. 

The ravens visit them periodically, clawing at the ground with their sharp talons to see if they had dropped any food. At night, they perch on the low hanging branches. Mino can see the fire shimmering in their oily feathers, their unblinking eyes glowing red.

Jinwoo has a hard enough time sleeping as it is but the ravens take a keen interest in him, making his sleep deprivation even worse. It’s as if the ravens know the exact moment Jinwoo closes his eyes, letting out out a shrill whistle and chuckling when Jinwoo startles awake.

Mino starts to hate the ravens as much as Jinwoo. They have wicked single-mindedness in how they torment his friend. Him and Seunghoon their best to keep the birds away, but they’re cunning, coming back just when they think they got rid of them for good.

In the earlier days, Jinwoo snarled at them, tried to intimidate them but now he accepts their taunting, shaking as they croak in the dead of night.

It rains steadily. Every couple of days, a torrent of rainfall comes and washes the dirt away. Green weeds are starting to sprout through the cracks in the highway. The grass grows taller than Mino has ever seen it.

Jinwoo looks smaller than before. He shivers even in the middle of the day. Seunghoon gives him his flannel shirt, the long arms reaching just past his knuckles, and holds him close to keep the cold away.

The earth is waking up after its long drought. Everyday is greener than the last but Jinwoo wilts before their eyes.

-

It takes them three weeks to reach the outskirts of Gwangju. It’s their last stop before they head to the coast. There is a road on the other side of the city, leading to a ferry dock. Jinwoo wants them to see it. He says he hasn’t been there since he was a small child.

They’re walking through a grove of forest when Seunghoon comes across a tree that is laden with strange looking fruit. He persuades Mino to let him sit on his shoulders so he can reach the plump fruit, teasing them as it dangles from the thin branches. Jinwoo stands below them, a shirt spread taught so that he can catch the fruit that Seunghoon tosses down to him.

Mino can’t figure out what they are. He’s never seen fruit that looked similar. His family was too poor to eat the apples and pears that were grown specifically for the elite. This fruit has a peculiar shape, round but squashed. It’s thin, shiny skin is bright orange and when Mino cuts it in half, its flesh is just as colourful.

“It must rain more here,” Jinwoo says as he holds the strange thing in the palm of his hand.“It couldn’t have grown any other way.”

“What is it?” Seunghoon asks, suddenly wary. “What if it’s poisonous?”

“It’s not poisonous,” Jinwoo tells them. “It’s a persimmon. We grew them on the island.”

Mino decides to go for it and takes a tentative bite. The flesh is softer than he expected but Mino has never tasted anything so sweet. The juice floods his mouth, wet and refreshing. Jinwoo and Seunghoon join him, their eyes lighting up as the sweetness hits their tongues.

Sitting at the base of the tree, they eat until their stomachs hurt.

“They’re delicious, aren’t they?” Jinwoo says, his smile reaching his eyes juices run down his chin. Seunghoon gives Jinwoo a mischievous look. Suddenly grabbing his face, Seunghoon moves in and licks the sticky nectar from Jinwoo’s mouth.

“Guys, please?” Mino groans, slapping a hand over his eyes. “You are so gross.”

Leaning back, Seunghoon licks the last of the juice from the corner of his own mouth.

“Tastes better this way,” He winks. Jinwoo covers his face and blushes.

They’re all laughing when something falls into Jinwoo’s lap with a thump. Jinwoo thinks it’s a persimmon that had fallen from the vibration of their voices. He carelessly reaches down to pick it up.

Jinwoo yelps, scrambling back as he flings the thing away. It’s not a persimmon, it’s a rat, still decomposing, blood matting its fur. Instead of eyes, there are only gaping sockets, like something had jabbed them out.

They hear the raven before they see it. It makes a garbled whir as it sits on a thin branch, looking down at them with its beady black eyes.

“Leave me alone,” Jinwoo begs, cowering away. “You’ve done enough.”

“ _Mother fucker_ ,” Seunghoon growls, reaching for his rifle and placing the bullet into the magazine with sharp, murderous efficiency.

He stands tall and lifts his rifle to his shoulders, aiming the barrel at the raven’s heart. They stare at each other through the sight for a moment and then Seunghoon pulls the trigger, the shot reverberating through the air.

The raven moves at the last second and the bullet grazes its wing. It lets out a piercing squawk and hisses as it flies away clumsily.

All the life that Jinwoo had gained from the sweet fruit drains out from him. His face is ashen and his eyes are wide and scared. He props himself up on the tree as his shoulders shake.

They pack as many persimmons as they can carry but Jinwoo refuses to take a single bite.

-

They reach the centre of Gwangju by nightfall. It’s later than Seunghoon had wanted, their pace made slower as Jinwoo limped along with them, taking frequent breaks to rest his fragile body.

Mino is starting to wonder why Seunghoon keeps pushing them forward. Jinwoo is obviously sick — he’s paranoid and sleep deprived. They need to stop and rest for a long time until Jinwoo can get better. It rains here more than it ever did in Busan. They could feasibly start over in this city. They could make a home again.

It’s like Seunghoon thinks that if Jinwoo reaches the island, he’ll suddenly come back to himself and return to the happy optimist that he once was. His determination blinds him. He doesn’t listen when Mino offers a different perspective.

Seunghoon points out an open door, leading into a wide, empty warehouse. The tall windows are splintered and broken, but the high ceiling will allow them to start a fire on the floor without worrying about breathing in the smoke. 

They make quick work of dinner and settle down for the night. Jinwoo can’t seem to sit still, he flinches every time the warehouse creaks, his trembling gasps echoing throughout the empty space.

-

Mino wakes up to Jinwoo leaning over him, so close that his warm breath fans out over Mino’s cheek. He feels a silky piece of fabric wind around his neck. He startles, trying to scuttle away, but Jinwoo puts a hand on his chest and slams him back to the ground with surprising force. He lifts a skeletal finger up to his mouth shushes him like one would shush an unruly child while playing hide-and-seek.

He’s still half asleep. His vision is blurry. He’s not quite sure that this isn’t a dream.

“Don’t worry,” Jinwoo says, his dark circles black and his eyes barren as he focuses on tying the silk scarf in a neat bow around Mino’s throat. “I just need to make sure your head doesn’t fall off like mine.”

-

Seunghoon’s hands are like claws as he shakes Mino awake.

“What?” Mino groans, trying to roll over and snuggle back into his blankets.

Seunghoon shakes him again. 

“Jinwoo’s missing.”

Sitting up, Mino rubs the sleep from his eyes. Seunghoon looks frantic, pacing back and forth and biting at his nails.

“He wasn’t here when I woke up,” He says, his breathes coming closer and closer as he begins to hyperventilate. “I looked outside, I walked around the block. I can’t find him anywhere.” 

He looks like he’s about to faint. Mino stands up and guides him to the ground. He makes him put his head between his legs, rubbing at his back as he tries to figure where Jinwoo may have gone.

“Mino,” Seunghoon pleads, “I don’t know where he is.”

Mino looks around desperately for any sign that Jinwoo might have left them. Anything to help them figure out where he has gone.

Seunghoon freezes when he looks at Mino’s neck. Bringing his hands up to feel what Seunghoon’s looking at, he touches something soft and sleek.

“Why do you have his scarf?” Seunghoon asks, murderously quiet.

Mino’s eyes widen. “You think I have something to do with this?” He says. “Do you think I dragged him outside and killed him?”

Mollified, Seunghoon’s breaks their staring contest and looks down.

“He’s not right in the head, Seunghoon,” Mino tries to explain. “Who knows what made him do this.”

Seunghoon gets angry again. “He’s not stupid,” He says.

“He’s sick!” Mino yells. “You’re the one who has kept pushing him.”

Seunghoon looks like he wants to punch him. “What should I have done? Stayed in Busan until the swarm caught us and used our corpses as fertilizer?”

“Better than letting him die alone!”

There are flames in Seunghoon’s eyes.

“We’re all going to die eventually, Mino,” He says. “It’s just a matter of when.”

-

It’s been two days. Two days of Seunghoon and Mino anxiously waiting after they decided to give Jinwoo the chance to find his way back before they head out to look for him.

They’ve almost accepted that Jinwoo might be dead when he reappears.

Jinwoo stands in the doorway, his arms slack by his sides. He shuffles his feet as if he’s hesitant to step over the mantle.

“Jinwoo,” Seunghoon breathes, getting up and rushing to him, stopping abruptly as he finally takes in his appearance.

Jinwoo’s hair is disheveled and his clothes are ripped. His face is paler than the moon that rises to replace the setting sun. The circles under his eyes are so dark that they could be bruises. 

Deep, angry claw marks are spliced along Jinwoo’s forearms, bleeding heavily. There is something hanging limp in his hands, its dark blood drips onto the ground, mixing with Jinwoo’s and staining the cement

“I’m like them,” Jinwoo murmurs as he sways on his feet. “They ate it too. We’re connected.”

Jinwoo drops the dead raven on the ground. Its wings are broken and its throat is slashed. Its claws are bloody from where they slashed at Jinwoo’s arms.

“I have blood and bones in my heart,” Jinwoo says and he falls before Seunghoon can catch him.

-

Mino wakes up after fitful dreams filled with his sister’s pleading voice and following gunshots. The sun is peaking through the dirty, cracked windows, illuminating the dust that floats like scattered stars.

Mino doesn’t remember falling asleep. He feels like it’s all he does. There’s not much else to do. He sleeps and then wakes up to the next day’s horror show.

He hears a soft snore from the corner of the room and he looks over to see Jinwoo nestled under layers of blankets. After Jinwoo fainted, Seunghoon had carried him to corner of the warehouse where they slept. He peeled off his dirty clothes and washed away the dirt and blood from his body, making sure every hair was clean and back in place before he tucked him in.

Seunghoon had told him once that Jinwoo used to always be warm, that it could be freezing in the night and Jinwoo would still complain about how he felt damp and sweaty. It’s a jarring divergence to see the Jinwoo who shivers even as Seunghoon and Mino strip off every layer they can to battle the heat.

Amidst his mountain of blankets, Jinwoo is sleeping peacefully. Mino figures that Jinwoo’s body has finally turned on him, not able to withstand the lack of sleep any longer.

Mino pulls on his clothes as quietly as he can and tip-toes out of the room. It’s better to let Jinwoo rest as long as he can.

He finds Seunghoon on the roof. He’s sitting on the ledge, his legs dangling off the edge, twirling an unlit cigarette between his long fingers. The cigarette is too old to smoke but it’s a token of a better time and that makes it something worth keeping.

The wind is cool this morning, a glorious reprieve from the fiery heat and stale air that they have endured these past couple of days. Mino walks over to Seunghoon and stands beside him, his hands in his pockets. Closing his eyes, he tilts his head back and lets the breeze rustle through his hair.

“We’re close to the ocean,” Mino says. “Can you smell it?”

Seunghoon hums. 

“It might rain,” He points out, gesturing up to the dark clouds in the distance. They’re starting to expect the rain. It’s as exhilarating as it is terrifying. Mino doesn’t want to get used to it, just in case the rain stops coming and the world returns to dust.

“How do you know, I mean really know, that you’re not crazy?” Seunghoon asks, breaking him out of his thoughts.

“Do you think Jinwoo is crazy?” Mino answers, a question for a question.

“I don’t know where he is,” Seunghoon whispers.

Mino doesn’t know either. The ravens have pecked away at him. Their months of torture have made him a different person. One that shakes in fear instead of finding the beauty in it. 

Mino hasn’t known him for very long but Seunghoon has known him for years. Seunghoon had shared a bed with that Jinwoo. Seunghoon has traded kisses with him. 

“Don’t you think it’s funny,” Seunghoon says, gazing out to the amber hued glint of broken windows on the buildings beyond. “We spend so much time thinking about our worst fear becoming a reality. You fear it so much that you can’t think beyond it. You think that if it ever came true, the world would end.”

“But it keeps going,” Mino finishes for him.

“Yeah,” Seunghoon nods. “That’s the scary part.”

-

Several hours of sleep does it’s magic and Jinwoo wakes up determined to see the island one more time. Seunghoon and Mino do not question him, making quick work of packing up their things.

When they make their way to the northern side of the city, they find what appears to be a deserted camp. Dozens of tents line up in neat, orderly rows. The canvas swishes as wind rushes through the pathways. It’s too pristine to think that something awful hadn’t happened here but it’s a perfect place to find provisions.

The three of them look down on the desolate scene from a group of trees on a nearby hill.

“It looks pretty empty,” says Seunghoon as he looks over the camp. “But that doesn’t mean anything. We still have to be careful.”

“Do you think it’s worth it?” Mino questions.

“It’s likely that we’ll find food, canned or dried. Weapons, hardly a chance but there’s a chance,” Seunghoon swallows thickly before continuing. “If this place was attacked, there might be bodies.”

“They’re all birds now,” Jinwoo chimes in, a vacant smile plastered on his gaunt face. “Can’t you hear them? _Tweet, tweet._ ”

The only sound is the wind.

“We’ll go in the morning,” Seunghoon decides. “We’ve walked enough, we need to rest.”

-

They decide to split up to cover more ground. Mino volunteers to go alone. He’s seen the worried glances Seunghoon keeps shooting at Jinwoo. He knows that Seunghoon doesn’t want to leave him alone.

As a precaution, Seunghoon hands Mino his rifle.

“You know how to use it, right?” He asks and Mino rolls his eyes.

“Of course I do.”

Seunghoon judges the way he holds the handle. “Don’t break it, okay?” 

Jinwoo walks up to Seunghoon and sets his chin on his shoulder.

“You don’t trust Mino after all this time?” He asks. His eyes look huge on this sunken face. In the past few weeks, he has lost an alarming amount of weight. Seunghoon and Mino have started to plan ways of getting some more meat on his bones after they visit the island. Step one was making another garden, twice as big as the last one, where Jinwoo could dig and plant and grow things to his heart’s content.

Seunghoon said that the next thing he would make is a scarecrow, to keep any pesky ravens away.

Despite the vast emptiness of the camp, Mino doesn’t feel that it holds any danger. It’s quickly apparent that the camp has long been deserted. Sometimes a swarm will send a group of farmers to plots of fertile land beyond their borders. Mino can see the remnants of a farming village here. There are rakes and plows. He tries to guess if Seunghoon would find the different tools useful to him.

He decides to make a stash of the tools that he finds. They can get them later.

His best find is a stash of flower seeds. The swarm doesn’t grow flowers, they are a waste of precious water that could be used to grow food that’s actually edible. He wonders who owned these seeds before and why he left them here.

If he closes his eyes, he can picture the flowers blooming. He tries to imagine what they smell like, the only thing that he can come up with is the smell of persimmon, sweet and tart.

A soft coo makes him open his eyes. Right in front of him, perched on the back of a chair, is a hawk. 

It is bigger than Mino had expected. It’s feathers are tawny brown fading to speckled white on it’s chest.

The hawk stares Mino right in the eye and maybe he has heard too many of Jinwoo’s stories, but he thinks there is recognition there.

Blinking once, the bird twists her head to the left, stretching out her wings and ruffling her feathers. When Mino doesn’t move, she gripes at him and flits to the next place she can perch, calling out for him to follow.

“What the hell am I doing?” Mino whispers as he walks towards the hawk. 

As soon as she sees that Mino is obeying, she takes flight, keeping low and circling back to see if Mino is still on her tail.

He hears another sound and this time it’s not the gentle cry of the hawk. It is a sound that he recognizes more readily. He looks up to see a dozen ravens drifting low to the ground. They take turns swooping down to the ground, their talons raised.

He lifts up his rifle and runs.

Mino is not prepared for what he sees. Jinwoo and Seunghoon are huddled on the ground. The ravens are diving at them, their talons ripping at Jinwoo’s shirt as his back hunches over to protect Seunghoon.

Mino doesn’t hesitate to raise his rifle and start shooting. It takes three bullets and three dead carcasses to get them to back off. Mino doesn’t lower his gun until they are high above them, still circling overhead.

Jinwoo is frantically whispering Seunghoon’s name as he holds him in his arms. It’s almost enough to muffle the sound of Seunghoon choking, blood streaming down his chest from the deep slice on his neck.

In Jinwoo’s shaking hand is a knife, stained a dark red that matches the blood flowing from Seunghoon’s arteries. Jinwoo loses his strength and the knife clatters to the ground. Mino acts fast, picking it up and throwing it as far away as he can.

“No, no,” Jinwoo moans, his hands fluttering across the wound in Seunghoon’s neck. The wound that he had himself inflicted.

Jinwoo rips off his silk scarf and ties it around Seunghoon’s neck but it’s no use, he’s bleeding out and he’s bleeding out fast.

“Jinwoo,” Seunghoon sputters, blood in his mouth. “Jinwoo.”

Jinwoo lets out a whine. It sounds like he’s dying right along with Seunghoon.

“They made me do it,” Jinwoo cries. “They were so loud. I shouldn’t have listened. Oh god, oh god, _oh god._ ”

Seunghoon tries to grab the hand that Jinwoo has around his neck. His fingers slip, slick and shiny.

“Look-look at me,” Seunghoon says. 

Jinwoo’s eyes are shut tight, he’s shaking his head back and forth, trying to wake himself up from this nightmare.

“I-I know what happened to you,” Seunghoon says, his words getting weaker. “What happened on the island. I know.”

The sobs that Jinwoo desperately tries to keep in break loose. He fiddles with the scarf like it will sew Seunghoon back together, like it will sew time back in place to make sure this never happened at all.

“Jinwoo,” Seunghoon whispers, grabbing onto Jinwoo’s wrist. “It’s okay.”

“You’re a _liar_ ,” Jinwoo weeps. 

“I love you,” Seunghoon says. Jinwoo shakes his head, biting his lip in a vain attempt to keep quiet. “I know and I still love you.”

“You shouldn’t love me. You shouldn’t.”

"But I do."

Seunghoon smiles one last time and the light in Seunghoon’s eyes fade. Jinwoo’s screams are loud enough to scare away the flock of ravens that circle above their heads.

-

Mino doesn’t think he will ever forget the image of Jinwoo rooting through the ashes of the fire that burned Seunghoon’s body, gathering up any piece of bone that he can find and wrapping them in his silk scarf.

-

Mino doesn’t know what to do other than finish their journey. He has to physically lift Jinwoo to get him to walk with him and even then, he drapes his arm on his waist to keep him upright.

Jinwoo is so thin and pale that he’s a dead man walking.

Mino manages to find food but every time Mino coaxes Jinwoo to eat he throws it up.

“It tastes like him,” He sobs and shakes.

-

They reach the ferry in surprising time. It doesn’t even take them a day. Jinwoo halts when they hear waves crashing against the shore.

Mino drags them over to a patch of sand, setting Jinwoo down gently and sitting beside him.

Jinwoo is silent, tears streaming down his face as they watch the sun set.

“There’s not much food on an island,” Jinwoo says after a long time, his bloodshot eyes staring at the dark mass of land across the ocean.

“The southern swarm wanted to get rid of all the people on the islands. There wasn’t enough food. Our crops were dying. We were dead weight. They took away the boats. It was too far to swim — not that we didn’t try — and the people who were able to build anything that could float got shot as soon as they were in sight of the mainland. We were trapped.”

Mino thinks he knows where this is going. He tries to keep his breathing steady as a chill spreads down to his bones. Jinwoo looks at him with his dark, misty eyes.

“We were starving, Mino,” Jinwoo whispers. “Do you understand?”

Mino can’t help the gasp that escapes his lungs. The weight of Jinwoo’s words are heavy on his chest. It’s like his ribs are cracked again, a pulsing ache right in the centre of him. He feels sick.

“I was little,” Jinwoo moans. “I didn’t know. I didn’t know what it meant.”

Jinwoo brings his knees to his chest and holds his head in his hands, like he’s trying to hide from Mino’s horrified scrutiny.

“I remember — afterwards — there were ravens. They picked away at what was left. They’re inside me and they’re inside those birds. That’s why I can’t think straight. I think they’re trying to get revenge for what I did. They’re eating me alive.”

Jinwoo wants absolution. Mino can’t give that to him. No one can. Not Jinwoo, not Mino, not the ravens that torment him.

“Don’t tell Seunghoon,” Jinwoo pleads. “Don’t tell him. He’ll hate me if he knows.”

Mino doesn’t have the heart to remind Jinwoo that Seunghoon’s dead. Jinwoo doesn’t need to know that he took that secret to Seunghoon’s grave.

-

Mino runs behind a tree and retches up everything that’s in his stomach.

-

They sleep in the sand and when he wakes up he finds Jinwoo standing waist deep in the ocean.

Mino walks out into the water, the scum squishy and slick between his toes. He puts one bracing hand on the nape of Jinwoo’s neck and the other on the centre of his chest — trying to steady him as his thin body sways with the waves.

“The water feels nice,” Jinwoo murmurs, his skeletal fingers creating gentle wakes as he runs his hands through the water’s surface.

The water is dirty black and poisonous, just like the world and just like the people still in it.

“It is beautiful,” Mino answers and all at once his arms feel like lead as they perch on Jinwoo’s frail body.

The sun is rising. It’s light is orange and fiery through the clearing smog. It turns the ripples on the water into golden scales. The tendrils of light touch Jinwoo’s cheek, making his pale skin even more luminous. Jinwoo has always been beautiful. He’s always been so beautiful that it almost burns to touch him. A seraphim - an angel of fire.

Jinwoo turns his head from the rising sun to look Mino in the eye.

“So this is my story,” Jinwoo says.

An unhappy ending, Jinwoo would have liked it.

“It’s like Romeo and Juliet,” Jinwoo whispers. “You should stab me in the heart.”

Mino shakes his head. “I’m not that kind of storyteller.”

The world is death and decay but the sun is still rising. The world is death and decay but from decay comes life again. It always does.

“I don’t want to be like this,” Jinwoo says.

“Nobody wants to be like this.”

“Then what’s the purpose of it all, Mino?” Jinwoo asks him, wading further into the water. “We all die eventually, but living, living _here,_ is cruel enough, don’t you think? What’s the purpose if the only thing we’re meant to do is suffer?”

“Do you remember when we burned my sister?” 

Jinwoo nods.

“We were walking back to Busan and you told me that everything can become beautiful. You should listen to yourself more often. We thought that the world was ending — that the sun would burn everything up. But look at it Jinwoo — ” he gestures to the green grass behind him, to the sky that is becoming clearer as each day passes “— it’s _beautiful_ again.”

He never thought that he would be saying this. Especially not after the very world he’s now calling beautiful stole his sister away from him.

“You said that everything happened for a purpose,” He continues. “I don’t think it has to change the world. Maybe our purpose is to be here, right now, looking at the sunrise.”

“I killed him,” says Jinwoo as his tears falling drop by salty drop into the water below him. “I guess I’ll have to live with that.”

The sun rises and Jinwoo’s eyes don’t look so dark.

-

He guides Jinwoo back to the sand, holding hands tightly.

He makes the fire as tall as he can, to dry their clothes and keep them warm. They watch the flames twirl and leap as they dance around each other and put on a show.

Jinwoo puts his head on Mino’s shoulder.

“I’m glad you’re here, Mino,” He says.

“Yeah,” Mino says. “Me too.”

They sleep in each other’s arms, the sun against their backs, and for the first time in a long time, Jinwoo feels warm.

-

Mino wakes up alone. 

Jinwoo’s pack is gone. There is a neat pile of wood beside the fire and the three cans of beans that Jinwoo was carrying are lined up beside that.

Looking down, he finds a silken scarf tied around his wrist. Sky blue and red with hibiscus flowers and blood stains.

His notebook rests beside him, the spine cracked and the pages rustling in the wind. In the last bit of space on the page, Mino sees a scrawl that isn’t his.

It’s a drawing of a bird. The body looks all wonky and the beak is too large but it makes Mino smile.

-

He stays by the coast. He likes the smell of the ocean. It rains often and each time it does, the air smells cleaner and the earth looks more green.

He hopes that he can find a place where he settle down. The first thing he will do is plant his flowers. The second — make a scarecrow.

It would be nice to have someone to share it with. This is the first time in his life that he has truly been alone. He finds that he doesn’t like the silence. He wishes he had someone to talk to. 

-

Mino nearly cries when he hears the sound of music lilt through a valley just above the beach.

Dropping his pack, he runs towards the sound, stopping abruptly when he rounds the corner and spots two thin figures sitting around a newly kindled fire.

The two boys look up at him, their eyes wide and fearful. Mino’s legs lose their strength and he drops to his knees, finally letting the tears fall from his eyes. He’s so glad to see them.

Two pairs of hands grip at his arms, lifting him gently and guiding him to sit by the fire.

“Are you alright, mister?” One of the boys asks. He has very full lips and his shaggy hair falls into his eyes.

“Yeah,” Mino nods. “I’m alright but I’ve walked a long way and I’d like to rest a bit.”

“Fair enough,” The boy agrees. “We just ate dinner, so unfortunately, there isn’t much to share.”

“We like watching the sunset,” The other boy says. He has long hair and sly eyes and he’s threading something through his hair. It’s bright red and delicate and Mino thinks he can smell its sweetness even from here.

“Where did you get that?” Mino chokes.

“From our garden,” The boy says, perching the hibiscus flower behind his ear. “There is an underground river. Things grow and bloom.”

“You can grow flowers? Mino asks earnestly.

“All kinds of flowers."

The boy eyes Mino carefully.

“You’re not going to tell anyone, right?” He asks. “We may seem nice and delicate but we won’t be afraid to shoot you in the back if you run.”

Their defensiveness puts Mino at ease. If they actually wanted to hurt him, they would most likely treat him kindly, lure him into a false sense of security.

Mino is done with being scared. It is useless to live life any other way. 

“I swear,” He says, offering his hand to each of them. “My name is Song Mino. I was born in Seoul but I’ve been all over.”

“Kang Seungyoon,” The boy with the lips says, tightly shaking Mino’s hand with his dry and calloused fingers. “Nice to meet you.”

“I’m Nam Taehyun,” The other boy says, eyeing him warily before takes the offered hand. Instead of shaking it, he turns Mino’s palm over and picks the flower from his hair, gently pressing into Mino’s hand.

Mino takes the gift with awe. Bringing the flower up to his nose, he lets its scent fill his nose. It’s not sweet like he expected but its aromatic and pure. It smells like home.

“Do you know any songs, Song Mino?” Seungyoon smiles as he strums lightly on an old and chipped guitar.

Mino looks up from the flower that he so delicately cradles in his palms.

“Just one.” 

> _My mother, she killed me,_
> 
> _My father, he ate me,_
> 
> _My sister Marlene,_
> 
> _Gathered all my bones,_
> 
> _Tied them in a silken scarf,_
> 
> _Laid them beneath the juniper tree,_
> 
> _Tweet, tweet, what a beautiful bird am I._

This time, the birds are quiet.

 

END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you made it this far! Thank you! This is my first story in the fandom and most definitely the longest that I have ever written.
> 
> This was a pretty open ended prompt and I definitely took it my own way. One of my favourite tropes in a story is seeing my OTP from another character’s perspective, and so although Jinwoo/Seunghoon is the main pairing, Mino is the main character and his narrative and story is central to this fic. I fell in love with writing Mino. I hope you enjoyed reading this story as much as I enjoying writing it.


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